


WORD RIDDEN.

by paypals



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Cheating, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, IT'S 2005 BITCHES, Infidelity, Mental Health Issues, Pining, Porn With Plot, Sex, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 23:20:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 23,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18376151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paypals/pseuds/paypals
Summary: "A gap year is supposed to be self-reflective, not make you a miserable bitch."Eden would love to be the tough, resilient woman that you hear about on TV, but she's clueless on what to do after graduation. She takes a gap year to find out. Between being envious of her successful boyfriend and struggling with mental health, Eden needs a fucking break. An angsty poet tries to be her peace, but ends up being one of her many problems.





	1. entry one.

**Author's Note:**

> In this AU, in 2005 "From Under the Cork Tree" HASN'T been released on January 1st, 2001 like our universe. Fall Out Boy is still a band that's somewhat popular online and in Chicago's pop punk scene. FUTCT is still being written and worked on in the beginning chapters. You can say that this is late "Take This to Your Grave" era. Just a heads up. 
> 
> If you have any questions about the timeline, please ask, and I'll clarify!

* * *

**gardenofeden**

**update: i graduated ;) [27 Jun 2005|11:12pm]**

hey, people! :) as you know, i graduated high school yesterday! as of june 24th, 2005, i am an alumnus of goldwood high school! i have yet to go to any parties or celebrate officially, but i don't really want any of that. keeping myself busy with work is enough for me. my boyfriend's best friend wants me to star in his series of short films, so that's fun. the thing is, i don't know if i can act forever. i have no idea what to do with my life.

maybe things will get better now that i'm out of high school and i'm technically an adult now. there's no more goldwood to tell me how gross i am, how i'm a wannabe– a slutty theatre kid. i've even heard that i'm a dyke. they aren't too far off i guess haha. i spend a lot of time policing other thoughts. their thoughts on ME. i wore wigs and beanies over my hair for four years and i finally get to bounce my curls around now. i like it. and back in high school the only time i could spend being myself was onstage, when i was someone else. depression is a bitch, i'll tell you. dissociation is a bitch, too. maybe things will get better since i'm not a kid anymore. i can make more friends, go out, enjoy life with my boyfriend when i can.

truth is, im scared of the future. all i want is to be an actress. if i don't become one, i guess i'll go into real estate or accounting or some shit like that so i won't end up homeless. jk, i'd go to school for like...photography or something. adulthood is fucking scary, dude. maybe i should have just gone to college. i deferred my entry into chicago u for a year. i'm surprised my mom even agreed to it. i've got work soon, so see ya.

song of the week: konichiwa bitches by robyn


	2. the first night.

My mother had always preached, "There's nothing more important than education. If you have the opportunity to learn, take it". Obviously, I hadn't been listening too attentively. After graduation, I was burnt out and lost. I just couldn't see myself back in a classroom after four treacherous years at Goldwood High School. The bullying, the scandals, all of the sheer foolishness. A gap year just seemed like a good idea to me, but it took my mother a lot of convincing. She thought it was a ploy for me to stay with James longer, but even _he_ shoved college down my throat– almost like he wanted even more distance. It's the first night of my gap year, but it doesn't feel any different from summer vacation.

Here I stand in Oasis just like I had for the past 2 years, preparing for yet another group of people to gather. A book club just left, and I made sure this place was spic and span when those nerds left. Now I sit contently on the counter of the prep room with _Twelfth Night_ in hand as the next group roams in.

"Don't you just _hate_ these?" Kris's voice and nudge to my shoulder snap me out my deep thought.

Since working here, I've actually grown to appreciate poetry, but only the happy ones. I have enough dismay in my life, I don't need to read poetry about it.

"Ugh," Onyx retorts, rolling her eyes at Kris's comment. "You're so uncultured, dude. These slams're so amazing. Hearing about people with minds just as dark as yours and–"

Kris cuts her off with a witty: "We get it, you're an emo dipshit. Shut the fuck up."

Onyx pulls her sandy colored arm back to punch Kris in the balls, causing him to whimper like a child and fold over. Glancing up from my book, I shake my head in disapproval of them both.

"You're still an emo dipshit who doesn't bathe!" his now shaky, high pitched voice lets out.

Working at a social club above a bookstore seemed to be a fun job until you get weird cosplayers, LARPers, and furries who decided to hold their meetings there. Emos and their poetry slams were the least of my worries. As a theater kid, I actually enjoyed when there was a dramatic poet performing one of their pieces. Unlike Kris, Onyx, and my other coworkers, I (willingly) do the most interacting with the groups because I admittedly get curious about their activities.

My hands seize several bowls and platters and I step towards the snack table, where I place the items down, rearranging them to look somewhat organized. As I do so, I feel someone's presence approaching perilously close to me, urging me to turn around cautiously. My eyes meet with a slightly taller guy– definitely emo. I can see the eyeliner around his eyes, and it's smudged with slate gray eyeshadow.

"Oops, sorry," he apologizes, shifting beside me to get a handful of Reese's cups.

"Mhm," I respond, setting out drinks and more snacks as Onyx brings them out, waving at the guy who returns the gesture.

"You know Onyx?" the stranger asks as she disappears to the back.

"Yeah, we work together, and we've been friends since middle school," I reply.

What I really wanted to know is how _he_ knew Onyx.

"I've seen her on Myspace and LiveJournal a few times. She really likes the bands I play with."

"Nice." I wonder if he knows that her name isn't Onyx. Her name is Holly-Claire and she's just really... _misunderstood_.

He picks up more snacks as I place them on the table? _Why is he trying to make small talk, and can't he just wait till I put out all the snacks?_

"We played here about three weeks ago, and I remember seeing you here," he says, now munching on Cool Ranch Doritos. "Sorry 'bout all the damage we caused."

"You're the 'rockstar' who trashed my club, huh?" I spat semi-seriously, looking at the guy with a furrowed brow before scoffing. "Emos, I swear."

Three weeks ago, his band played and wrecked our club, there was stuff thrown everywhere, equipment broken, and somehow a hole in the wall of the green room. Onyx, Kris and I had to clean everything up by ourselves, and I'm almost certain that that liquid I mopped up was _piss_. My boss almost banned them, but they made us a lot of money so he digressed.

I begin to push the snack cart back to the prep room, before there's a hand on my forearm.

"Hey, I'm Pete, by the way." he smiles, glancing at my nametag shortly before returning his eyes to mine. "You are...?"

"Eden." With that, I wander back into the prep room as the slam starts.

Onyx rambles about how the guy at the snack table, Pete, is really popular online and how cool he and his band are. Apparently, he has a LiveJournal full of angsty poetry and horribly angled self-portraits. I'm not really fascinated like she is, but she promises to let me listen to one of his songs. After she finishes her useless tangent, I watch the poets as they perform. So far, no one's _awful_ at performing, there are just some questionable poems that make me want to dial 911. I decide to sit down, pulling my laptop out of my bag before logging into AIM, messaging friends contently as I listen in on the performances outside.

There's a squeal from Onyx, and she shakes my arm before pacing around the room.

"I think Pete is next!" she shrieks, and Kris lets out a disappointed sigh. "Eden, you have t' see!"

He probably hears her, considering the volume (or lack thereof) in the main room.

"Okay, okay, just keep quiet before you get us in trouble, fucking idiot." I give in reluctantly, following Onyx out of the prep room, where Pete stands onstage.

His poem was... extremely fucking depressing. Something about heartbreak, tears, and exes– the usual things I hear about at these events. However, his delivery– it was so raw and beautiful. As a lover of acting, I can't help but admire how he was vulnerable enough to shed tears onstage. He _wasn't_ acting, and that's what made it so rattling. Chills cover my skin, and I immediately attempt to go back to the prep room but am instead pulled in the opposite direction by Onyx. She's going after Pete, and she creepily steps in front of him, me in hand.

"Leaving so soon? That was amazing, Pete!" Onyx excitedly praises. I zone out, so I can't hear anything else she says, but it seems like she's kissing his ass, asking about his band and when he'll be back.

"Yeah, gotta run!" He nervously chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck uneasily. "Do you guys have any more snacks?"

"Sure!" Before even asking what he wants, Onyx lets go of my hand to race to the snack table.

Pete looks around before breaking our uncomfortable silence. "Your friend is nice."

I laugh at his attempt at a conversation and walk away. "Yeah," I turn around to look at him one last time. "Come visit us again." It's in my script for interacting with customers, so I decided to part ways with it.

•

There's loud rave music blasting from my neighbor's apartment, but it's better than the moaning and arguments that typically happen on Monday nights. My first night of gap year was mediocre, but I wonder if college would be any more interesting. After a steamy shower and a green tea mask, I bring out my laptop to go on Myspace.

new messages!  
new friend requests!  
new comments!  
new blog subscription post!  
new blog comments!

petewentz wants to be your friend!

Apparently, Pete's prior engagement that made him leave the slam didn't involve not being on Myspace. I click "Accept" before clicking on his profile, viewing his playlist. There was classic rock, mostly, along with stuff from the emo scene that I had heard Onyx play.

new messages!

from: petewentz  
subject: im the guy from the poetry slam  
body: you should give me your number ;)

"Wha–" is the only thing I can verbally convey. I'd hate to be that bitch, but maybe I should just tell him I have a boyfriend. Maybe he's just being friendly, but it seems oddly flirty.

to: petewentz  
subject: ummm...  
body: nah :/

My ringtone sounds off from my phone, and I flip it up to see Onyx's name across the screen. Upon answering, I hear Onyx screaming incomprehensible words from the other line. Finally, she settles down, letting out a shaky sigh like she's been crying.

"Pete messaged me! He wants both of our numbers to invite us to concerts! I gave him yours! We're gonna be Myspace famous– doyouhearme– _famous_!"

Of course, she did...

If I hear Pete's name one more fucking time tonight, I will scream.


	3. make a friend.

Today's a relatively slow day, as no one ever really holds events here on Tuesdays— or any weekday besides Monday and Friday. However, Oasis is an open space for people to mingle, so there were usually people hanging out, talking about literature, music, pop culture. During these types of days, Oasis is a melting pot for whoever's bold enough to come upstairs. Routinely, I refill the snack table and check on the status of our visitors, making sure they aren't breaking shit or fighting. Unlike when I have to entertain a particular group, I can sit back and read during my free time. However, my break was winding down.

 **james:** im dwnstairs **:)**

It's been a while since I've seen James because he's constantly working. "Art is tedious, babe. I need my space." he would always tell me. Astrology must be onto something, because I constantly read about how distant Aquarians are, and we didn't see each other nearly enough to live in the same city and call ourselves a couple. Our relationship has been ongoing since I was fourteen and he was seventeen. He graduated from Goldwood while I was a freshman, which raised judgment from my peers. I can understand, the senior boy-freshman girl trope is something that seems like an exceptionally grayed line, but I fell in love with him. Ever since he went to college, he always seemed too busy for me. As much as I dreaded it, I attempted to break up with James to let him pursue his career comfortably, but he insisted that distance shouldn't affect our relationship.

Upon reading his text, I race excitedly downstairs and meet James at the foyer of the bookstore. He holds bags in his hand with a glimmering smile across his freckled features. My arms swing around his shoulders as he bends down to capture my lips with his. _It's been such a long time since I've seen him, felt him._ When I felt his skin against mine, it took all of my doubts away and I felt like the girl I was four years ago.

"Hey, _dulzura_ , I brought you some lunch. I got a little break, but traffic ruined my plans to stay with you during your break." his disheartened voice explains.

"You have to go, huh..." I frown, pulling away from him. "I'll miss you, baby."

"I do have some good news, though!" his expression morphs into the beam from before. "I'll be taking my favorite girl— that's you— on a date Saturday night after you leave work. It'll be a surprise. Just bring something cute to wear."

"Oh?" I nod, trying to contain my excitement. It's been about six months since he took me out on a date. "I'll go ahead and let you go, I have to get back to work. I love you, James."

"Love you, too." James presses his lips on mine one last time, before handing me my lunch and disappearing through the bookstore doors.

While walking up the stairs, I hear footsteps following me.

"Whatcha got there?" a voice asks. It's an oddly familiar voice.

Upon turning around, I see Pete, the guy from last night.

"Nothing," I reply and continue to walk upstairs.

"Italian food, nice."

It would be inappropriate to tell a customer to fuck off, but this guy is way too nosy and getting too close for comfort.

"Can I help you, Pete?" I glowered, yet my face gave a sarcastic grin.

"Sorry, I'm being weird," he muttered. "I just... spend a lot of time downstairs."

"I'm... sorry? What is that supposed to mean?"

"I think it's cooler up here, and I might as well make a friend, right?" he grinned, his shoulder shrugging.

"Hmm." I scoff, returning to the prep room.

As I eat my lunch, I occasionally peek through the double doors at Pete who holds _Twelfth Night_ in his hands, the same book that rested comfortably on the table beside me. His nails are painted black, which wasn't very surprising.

"Onyx," I call, turning my head to her. "How often does Pete come here?"

"He goes to the bookstore pretty often, but he doesn't come here unless it's for his band," she replies.

_Might as well make a friend, right?_

When I step out of the double doors, the loud noise of the hydraulics seems even louder, considering the main room is relatively quiet. Pete and I exchange a glance, and he gives me a toothy smile along with a friendly wave. I stride in his direction, sitting on the olive armchair next to him.

"I'm reading _Twelfth Night_ , too." I greet, smiling amiably at him.

"For real? I _love_ this play." he muses, placing the book down to turn to me. "Can you believe they thought this was funny back then?"

An amused laugh slips past my lips as I nod. "It's so crazy! 'Cause women couldn't perform back then, so they had men dressed as women who dressed as men!"

"What's crazy is that Orsino thinks he's straight," Pete jokes. "Like, no, my dude, you're definitely kinda gay."

We continue to dorkily converse over the themes and plot of _Twelfth_ Night, before there's a sudden silence between us.

"What type of music are you into?" Pete inquires, breaking the ice quite conveniently, as I almost just sat here in silence.

"I'm into indie pop, ska, stuff like that." I tell him. I loved Robyn, Depeche Mode, Sufjan Stevens, underrated music.

"You _fucking hipster_!" he says, playfully pushing my shoulder as he cackles, his voice louder than everyone in the room.

"Maybe so, but at least I'm not emo!" I retort jokingly, pushing him back.

"Touché." he says.

"I have to get back to work, so–"

"Oh, yeah, sorry." Pete shifts in his seat, picking _Twelfth Night_ up again as I stand up.

"See ya."

Pete searches his pockets and looks around the area, and under the chair. "Hey, real quick. I think I lost something, will you help me find it?"

"What is it?"

"Your number." he answers smugly, his chin resting against his fist as he smiles up at me.

Nice one, I have to give him credit. My hands dig into my fanny pack and find a pen along with an old receipt, as I write: _Eden 555-2708_

After handing him the slip of paper, Pete grins confidently, probably feeling quite affirmed now.

"There you go." I say, folding my arms. Pete takes the pen out of my hand and seizes my arm, writing: _Pete 555-0101 :)_ across my skin.

"I'll message you later." he says, and I just nod.


	4. tip me off.

"Maybe you should tip me for keepin' you company. I have a job, y'know." I teased as Pete handed me a frosty Arizona Green Tea.

He laughs in response as he takes a sip from a golden yellow can. "So you're an escort?"

"Oh, fuck you."

Pete lets his goofy laugh fill the air, before pulling out his iPod and earphones. "Listen to this song, and tell me what you think," Pete puts one of the earphones in my ear, the other in his.

The sound is far from the electropop I was used to, but it wasn't as bad as I thought. There were obvious pop elements, but the tune and lyrics just screamed _'EDGY'._

> _They carve the message deep within our broken hearts that fail to mend_   
>  _Make out kids never had a chance to be best friends_

As the song went on, Pete seemed eager for my reaction, an ecstatic grin across his features as he looked at my face for some type of opinion. The song wasn't bad, so I turned to him with a nod of somewhat approval. The song soon ends, and I stand up to stretch.

"I have to get ready, but I'll send you a song to listen to tonight," I say, patting Pete's shoulder.

Confusion can be seen in the rise of his eyebrow, and he stands to his feet, as well. "Get ready?"

"Yeah, James is taking me out tonight. It's been awhile." I explain, shifting my chair back into place.

"Have fun," is all he says and we share an uncomfortable glance.

"Thank you," I answer, before pacing away to change.

 _Am I beautiful?_ I study my frame in the mirror, my ringlets of hickory brown hair. They were once hidden under bone-straight, brunette wigs, and knitted beanies. Rich tan skin, blemished with scars, freckles, and sunspots. As I study my outfit, I adjust my multitude of rings nervously.

"She's in the storage room," a disembodied voice says, sounding like Onyx.

James is here.

The door swings open and I'm plucked up from behind, and a sunny giggle escapes my lips. We separate to connect lips, my kind hand resting on the stubble of his face.

"You look so good, baby," James says as he wills me a fascinated look from head to toe.

_Do I? Do I look good?_

My lips curl into a smile as I take his hand. "You look good, too."

On our way out of the back room, James tells me about the projects he's working on, his future plans, his new friends. He has so much to talk about that it seems like I don't know the June 2005 version of James. Makes sense, since his spill was undoubtedly way too much to text. 

Upon making it to the main room, I notice Pete remains where I left him. He has his earphones in, staring attentively at what seems to be a journal. Our eyes meet for a brief moment, and I wave at him to say goodbye. His response comprises of looking at James, then me, and then halfheartedly throwing up a hand.

•

 _A skating rink?_ I'm not superficial, but I thought a surprise would be a fancy dinner or a road trip. The skating rink is a surprise, but I can't make up my mind to say it's a _good_ one. The blinding strobe lights of Elektrik cause me to squint my eyes, and James turns to me, seizing both of my hands.

"So, you know how I couldn't be with you for our four year anniversary?" he starts. "I know it was a while ago and you said not to dwell on it, but I wanted to make it up to you."

"Thanks, James," I say, kissing his cheek lightly before embracing him.

"Remember? Our first date was here! Four years ago, isn't that fucking crazy?" he reminisces, and I can't help but smile at his nostalgic gaze around the rink.

> _I just wanted to play games at the arcade 50 feet away, but he insisted on a new experience._
> 
> _"No one ever took me skating as a kid!" James shouted, his legs trembling and ankles bowing in neon orange roller skates as I held his hands in front of him, skating backward effortlessly._
> 
> _"That isn't my fault! You wanted to come here!" I cackled, watching him nervously attempt to move on the waxed floors._
> 
> _After hilarious tumbles and tons of embarrassment, James had learned how to simply roll across the smoothness of the floor, me in hand._

That night, we kissed for the first time, and I've been in love ever since. It's like the teen fiction or young adult romance novels you read, no matter how corny. Fireworks.

"Are you gonna take me home an hour too late, just like back then?" I joke in a giggle, reminding him of our last time here.

His gentle hands snake around my hips, as he speaks in a ringing tone over the loud dance music of the rink. "I wish, but I have things to do."

_You always have something to do._

"So you can't spend the night?"

"I can't, baby, sorry," he says in melancholy, his hand resting on the top of my head. "Next time."

Even though I know it's not his fault, my heart sinks immediately. His eyes are full of sincerity, but he just reminds me of my father. The words "next time" just seem so distant, like time itself. Nonetheless, there was always a next time, no matter how far that time was. That being said, I had to settle for what I could get.

The mood is practically gone, but I play nice to keep James happy through the night, because I know he just wanted to make me happy.

•

"Good night, baby," James says as he rests against the hallway outside my apartment. "Next time, okay?"

"Night," I reply and nod with an awkward smile. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

James departs after pressing his lips on my forehead, and I open my apartment door to step inside. Resting my head against the door, I take a deep breath of stress and relief. The stress comes from the realization that I won't see James in a while– it was a miracle to see him twice in a week. The relief comes from being home, where it's socially acceptable to talk to yourself about your relationship and all of its flaws.

_I'm a good girlfriend. I am a good girlfriend, right?_

from: petewentz  
subject: hey idiot  
body: wheres my songyou promised

to: petewentz  
subject: who u callin an idiot >:(  
body: just got home, wait a min

from: petewentz  
subject: dw bout it  
body: im calling u :P

Almost instantly after reading his message, my phone vibrates on my vanity and I hastily answer with a sigh.

"Hello?" I call out in annoyance.

"Tell me about your date," Pete says plainly. His voice almost sounds monotonous– nothing like his actual voice.

"We went skating," I say, and saying only that feels crazy because our time at Elektrik was three hours of roller skates, arcade games, and pizza. The night was still young, it was only ten o'clock. "It's been a long time since we went out, and I miss him already."

"You just need some friends, Eden." Pete chuckles.

 _I agree. More than two friends and_ a Pete _would be nice._

Onyx was great when she wasn't concerned about what people think, and Leah had been M.I.A. since graduation. Admittedly, things were getting lonely, and having a busy boyfriend was the bitter icing on the cake.

"Oh, fuck you." I retort, a sigh escaping my lips. "I love him so much, I wish he was here more often, y'know?"

"Why isn't he?" Pete inquires.

"Just college, he's an art student and–"

"No one in college is that fucking busy without being two seconds shy of a mental breakdown." Pete's voice has a jokey tone, and he scoffs.

A while ago, I used to feel that way. College kids usually have _some_ time to kill, and I had seen James's schedule, he didn't have long, strenuous classes. However, he's involved in several clubs that he told me about, and that's how he keeps himself occupied– crazily so. That made way more sense to me than James just choosing to avoid me.

"He's pretty levelheaded," I tell him, setting the phone on speaker mode as I typed a new entry on LiveJournal. "When he graduates this fall, everything will be different."

_Everything will be different._

"Isn't summer vacation rolling around?"

"Yeah, but James is going to LA with his art club for this film project he's doing the graphics for."

I had almost forgotten. James would be getting on a plane and flying 2000 miles away for a month. To make matters worse, I have to drive him to the airport and wave him goodbye. Next week.

"Yikes, dude. You're almost single." he laughs,  
but sometimes my brattiness told me that James was leaving me to spite me and I have spent many a night feeling single, despite my four-year relationship with the busy love of my life.

I let out a disheartened sigh, before speaking. "Hey, Pete? I'm tired. Thanks for calling, though. Good night."

"Good night, Eden, see y– hey, you wanna come to see my band tomorrow?"

"Sure, sure. See ya." I yawn, before hanging up the phone and tossing my laptop aside.

_Maybe James and I should have that conversation again, maybe I can force him to spend time with more time with me. He can't be that busy, can he?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading, I'd love some feedback! Thanks for giving WORD RIDDEN so much love, and I just hope that you guys are patient with me! I love you guys! -ELLE.


	5. entry two.

**gardenofeden**

**love letter/pain note [02 Jul 2005| 11:12 pm]**

oh, dear, how i love your success! everything is going well for you and you're making your family in gordonville, virginia very happy. you rose above. they brew beer and you manufacture masterpieces. you're making everyone at goldwood high school very happy. they teach, administrate and learn while you recreate the world with a brush. you've made me very happy. i bring out snacks at a hangout and agonize over you, while you smile contently at a painted canvas. i love you, my dear. i love you, but i can't help but become blue with gloom and green with envy because you aren't HERE.

when i go to school, i will keep you as close as humanly possible. i will eat lunch with you every afternoon, and awkwardly bring you to my dorm so everyone knows that i have someone that makes me bold enough to put a sock on the doorknob. until then, i will wait impatiently.

 

i love you


	6. so many promises.

Agreeing to go to a pop punk concert isn't the best decision I've made while significantly drowsy, but it's not like I have any plans for today. Admittedly, I have a prejudice against this experience already. On MTV, emo kids are always seen destroying things and causing trouble. Onyx reassured me that as long as I stay out of the mosh pit, I should be fine, but I don't like the fact that moshing is involved in the first place.

"What's the name of his band anyway?" I yell over the crowd, bumping Onyx's shoulder.

"This one's called Fall Out Boy!" she shouts back.

_How many bands has he been in?_

The audience screams, and I stand on my toes to see Pete on stage behind the emcee. He holds a bass and smiles at what seems to be the other members of his band. His band is introduced, and there are hollers, mostly from girls.

Pete steps to the mic, and I notice that he wears even _more_ eyeliner on stage than he usually does. "We're Fall Out Boy, and this is called "Tell That Mick He Just Made My List of Things to Do Today"!" he announces before they start.

I don't know the lyrics, but Onyx and I hop around as she shouts them confidently with the rest of the crowd. There are three more songs, and Onyx tells me that their setlist is relatively short, due to the club's stipulations. Seeing their energy onstage was nerve-wracking– the jumping, uncoordinated stunts and standing on equipment. It was like the Oasis show that made me bury myself in the prep room. During a song Pete calls "Saturday", both Pete and the guitarist take a leap into the crowd, just barely missing my head. Security guards scold the boys, trying to pull them out of the sea of people.

"Fucking hell," I cackle, watching as the large men take hold of Pete and the guitarist's jean pockets, retrieving them and helping them back up on stage.

Following the set, Onyx and I hurriedly travel through the parking lot, trying to find my car.  A van cruises beside us, and I hear the sound of the window being rolled down.

"Eden!" Pete says a smile painted across his face, as he rests his arms on the open window. "Did you like us?"

"You guys were great," I tell him, walking over to the vehicle, briefly glancing at the guys with him.

Onyx talks to the rest of the band, telling them how great they are, asking for autographs and taking pictures on a disposable camera.

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?" Pete asks, his grin becoming toothier. The boys in the van laugh, make jokes and punch Pete's shoulder playfully, letting out childish _'oooooh'_ 's.

Rolling my eyes, I nod in agreement before waving him goodbye.

"Dude, Pete likes you," Onyx says in the car, warranting a laugh from me.

"He knows I have a boyfriend," I respond, checking out my now frizzy curls in the mirror. Humidity is a bitch.

"I didn't say you had to like him back, but I think it's funny... and cute."

_Bzz, bzz. Bzz, bzz._

"Speak of the devil," Onyx smirks, swiping up my phone before I could even spot it. "Pete! This is Onyx!"

Although I try to hear what Pete's saying on the other line, I can only hear fragments of unimportant sayings like 'uh' and 'well'.

"What does he want? Give me my pho– at least put it on speaker, _bitch!_ "

"Okay, sure thing, Pete!" Onyx then hangs up, laughing at my confused and irritated disposition.

"What was that about?"

"He was thanking us for coming, and he says that he wants us to come to more shows," she explains. "And that he'll see us tomorrow." Onyx tugs at my cardigan, giggling like a child.

•

"Have you been feeling better? Babe? _Babe_ , are you there? Hello?"

After a while, I come to, letting out a heavy, yet shaky sigh. Lately, I've been feeling like I'm autopilot. This was a new chapter in my life! I'm an adult with an apartment, and I can make my own rules, but there's always this dark cloud of uncertainty above my head. My dissociative episodes are getting worse, and so are the depressive episodes. Everyone's heard of the story of the gloomy, angsty gal with depression, but I? I am livid, I am confused, and I am exhausted. I am a disaster waiting to happen, and it was everyone else's fault but mine.

"God, James, I'm tired– James, listen! We need to address the elephant in the– nevermind."

Oh, how desperately I want to tell him how lonely I am, how my promise ring was dulling like our relationship itself; how embarrassing it was to claim that a boyfriend exists, but for him to not be there. I wish he would stop talking about being everywhere but with me. Maybe that makes me a selfish bitch, but I don't care.

"What's wrong? Is it getting bad again?" James's concerned voice asks through the phone.

_He always calls my health 'it', like it's the unspeakable until I chop my hair off and lie numb in the kitchen floor._

"I miss you. You're never here. I'm sorry that I'm rambling and I always seem to have this same discussion with you but is there any way that I could see you more often? Things have been rough, but I feel like I haven't been your actual girlfriend in—"

"I'm sorry, baby," he breathes out. "You know I miss you, and I wish we could see each other more often, but everything has been so hectic. When I graduate, it'll be just like it was four years ago."

_I'm holding on to that promise for dear life._

"You're leaving Thursday..." I try to change the subject, my cool fingers gripping at my scalp in stress. My voice lightens, contrary to its previous manic state.

"Yeah, I'll miss you so much."

He tells me about how hard school is when I'm not physically there supporting him, and how things would be so much better if he could see my smile every morning.

_I'm holding on. I'm hanging on. I always will for him. Our four years feel like forever, and it'll last until Earth stops orbiting the Sun._


	7. read for filth.

"You and that boyfriend of yours," Pete chuckles before resting his legs on the table, something he knows I can't let him do.

Over the past week, Pete and I have become somewhat friends. I give him book recommendations, he gives some back. He makes me listen to new music, I make him do the same. Our friendship has only gone out of Oasis once, and that's when I watched his band.

"I know, it always seems like I'm complaining about him," I sigh, folding my arms across my chest. "I wish he–"

"What about _you_ , Eden? Who are you without your boyfriend?" Pete's irritated tone shocks me.

"An aspiring actress, I guess. I haven't thought about acting in forever."

"I thought I wanted to study political science, but look at me," he says, seeming reminiscent of his past. "I dropped out to become a musician... wild, huh?

"You dropped out of college?" I inquire in shock.

"Yep, one quarter away from graduation."

"How long ago was this?"

"Damn," he says, picking his iced coffee out of the cupholder and taking a sip, his eyes wandering up. "Four years ago."

_That would make Pete around 26._

"Don't you graduate this fall? Or is it next spring?" he asks me.

"I just graduated high school a week ago." I laugh. His eyes widen at me.

"Oh."

Pete tells me about his time at DePaul as a political science major, how he juggled his studies and the bands he played for. It's crazy how much he believed in his dream– I don't know if I should admire him or tell him how insane he is to let his education go to waste. Maybe I should stick with one dream, like Pete. I don't know.

"I think I wanna act, but I've never really known what I wanna be," I say, twisting my hair around my fingers and gazing out into the atmosphere.

"That's what a gap year is for, right?"

"That, and being a lazy piece of shit."

"You know, I think your photography is cool," Pete says as he stands up, grabbing a handful of snacks off of the side table.

"You've been stalking my Myspace. Creep." I say teasingly.

"I was looking for racy pics!" he cackles.

My fingers pinch at Pete's arm, twisting the skin. His alarmingly shoots towards me, with, quickly grabbing my hand and squeezing it before speaking. "I also know that it's in your purse," he whispers, his flickering russet eyes meeting mine. "Your camera."

I kept my camera in my purse, taking pictures of Chicago in its inexplicable glory. The lights, the love, and nightlife– it's where I was raised. I found it very hard to leave Chicago, hence my initial application to the University of Chicago. I know that I'll die in this city, and I'm willing to accept that. When I wasn't taking pictures of scenery, my friends were my subjects, but I haven't heard from any of them in a while. Graduation changes people– ends bonds. It makes you realize that some people only tolerate you because they see you five days out of the week, ten months out of the year, for four years straight.

Our proximity is originally friendly, but my smile drops when I realize that his hand still assertively clasps mine.

"You've seen my photography," I respond, before inhaling a large breath of air.

Pete nods, his glossy teeth peeking through his smile, a hushed laugh escaping his lips. "Isn't it time for you to clock out?"

There's no time to answer, I just slip away from Pete's vicinity, our hands finally disconnecting as I walk swiftly to the employee's lounge. As I throw my apron aside and release my hair from the restricting, painful scrunchie, my thoughts are all over the place. Ever since Onyx told me that Pete might have a thing for me, I've been reading into his every move.

"Do you wanna go grab a bite to eat Thursday?" Pete asks me once I come back out. "There's a pizza joint called–"

"I have a boyfriend."

A look of shock fills Pete's face, and he falls silent for a while, creating a silence between us. Finally he nonchalantly says, "I know that."

"Well, why are you trying to take me on a date?" I ask him, looking around to make sure that no one hears our exchange.

"I want to keep you company while your boyfriend is away! Like a good friend does...? Forget it, you made it weird." Pete walks off, going downstairs, as I stand with my hands on my hips, dumbfounded.

After the sound of his footsteps ceases, I storm down the stairs to run after Pete. "What? You were totally flirting with me!"

"Get over yourself!" Pete scoffs before leaving out of the door.

"Fuck you, Pete!"

He flicks me off through the window, and I look around to see if anyone just saw our argument. No one but the bookstore clerk, who seemed more concerned with painting her nails.

•

"Maybe you should just cheat, to make the breakup easier," Onyx explains as she clipped at the dull ends of my springy locks.

"I don't wanna break up, dumbass," I scolded, looking through my own album of photography on Myspace. "It's just– James is going to California, Holly, I'm g–"

"So, you stop being Eden when James isn't around? Eden, you're taking a gap year and don't even have a plan for your life. You were never like this before James went off to college." Onyx argues, and I sink in my chair. I had heard the same thing from my mom.

"I can't miss my boyfriend?"

"You can't sulk like a little bitch about it, and that's what you're doing. Either get over the fact that he's a busy guy, or break up. It's simple." she says, before putting my hair into a bun.

Deep down, I know that Onyx is right, but there's something in me that hinders me from letting four years of my life go to waste because I was impatient. What if James and I can make it work when he graduates?

"It's gonna get better, Onyx."

"At least _fuck_ someone else– _kiss_ someone else. All you know is James."


	8. tugging at me.

I was trying to be strong, but tears well up in my eyes, causing me to snatch off my glasses furiously. James takes my hand, pulling me into a passionate hug, as I sob and whimper into his denim jacket. His embrace is a plush blanket, comforting and amiable.

"It's okay, baby, I'll be back before you know it," James reassures, his hand running up and down my back.

Oh, how I've heard that story a million times.

"Please be safe, James, and make sure you call m–"

He cuts me off with a stern, " _Dulzura_ , I'll be okay." Our bodies detach and I'm still sniffling and hot tears fall down my cheeks. "Everything is going to be okay. It's just a month."

"Southwest Airlines flight 351 to Los Angeles is now ready for boarding. All passengers, proceed to Gate 14." the announcer says over the intercom.

James bends down slightly to collide his lips affectionately with mine, giving me one last hug before he pulls away once more.

"That's you, huh," I say, a slight tremble in my voice. "I-I love you!" I try to crack a smile, but it's extremely hard to act happy while seeing your boyfriend off.

"Love you, too, baby," James whispers before kissing my cheek lightly and walking towards the exit. He waves his hand at me and that's just it.

I leave soon after, and while in my car, I stare at my reflection in the mirror, rubbing at my eyes and fixing my hair. I sniffle one last time, blinking furiously to help my now dry eyes.

•

Work is normal, except Pete is nowhere to be found; not here, nor downstairs. I'm not an idiot, I know it was because of Tuesday when I declined his offer to take me out. No, he didn't verbally call it a date or anything, but what was I supposed to think after that– him 'accidentally' holding my hand, him looking at me like that, and his eyes–

"Eden!" I hear a familiar voice ring, and I glance up to see Leah.

Leah and I are best friends, and we have been since elementary school. She had always tried her best to protect me, and that's how we met– her coming to my rescue.

"Look what the cat dragged in," I teased, pulling Leah into a tight hug. "I haven't heard from you in what, almost two weeks?"

"My parents wanted to celebrate by going to Miami," Leah explains. "It's so lame when you can't smoke or drink."

I laugh at her comment before placing my hands on my hips. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," she giggles. "Sometimes I need your bratty attitude to keep me grounded."

While sitting on a couch in the main room, I tell Leah about my gap year so far, my relationship with James and how I met Pete. She informs me that she won't be going to college at all, and how her parents are close to kicking her out for her decision. _I had no idea that Mr. and Mrs. Reyes_ were _so strict._

"If you want, I can help you find a job and maybe an apartment," I tell her in comfort.

"You really are my best friend."

•

I stare at the ceiling of my car as I sit motionless, sighing every once in a while. James is gone, Leah is busy looking for work and a place to live, Onyx is working double shifts after wasting her money on her shitty ex-girlfriend, and Pete's mad at me.

My eyes meet my cellphone, and I pick it up, quickly dialing Pete's number. At first, it goes to voicemail, but I decide to try again.

"Hello?" Pete answers.

"Hey."

"Hey."

There is an awkward silence, causing me to look at my phone quizzically.

"Hello? Are you–"

He interrupts with a cold, "What's wrong, Eden?"

_In other words: Why did you call me? What do you want?_

"I'm accepting your offer," I tell him.

"Is that your way of saying sorry?" He laughs, and I feel like that's a good sign. "I wasn't really mad, just– nevermind, should I pick you up?"

Returning his laugh, I reply "Yeah, I'll text you my address," I say. "See ya later, Pe– I'm sorry, by the way."

 _Beep, beep._ Call ended.

I'm already dressed, an oversized Ed Hardy shirt covering me, along with denim shorts. I put lip gloss on my lips, before catching myself in a daze.

_What am I doing? This isn't a date. This isn't a date, but I'm hoping that it takes my mind off of things for a while._

My phone vibrates, and instead of answering it, I glance out of my blinds, to see Pete getting out of his car. Before I can make it to my front door, there's a knock. Gathering my purse, I opened the door to see Pete.

"Hey," he says, putting his phone away quickly.

"Let's go, I'm fuckin' starving," I respond, pulling the door up behind me to lock up.

•

Pete and I sat at a booth in Giordano's, a pizzeria that specialized in a Chicago classic– deep dish pizza.

"What are you going to do while James is gone?"

After taking several sips of Pepsi, I let out a sigh of distress. "He's always gone, this time, he just isn't in Chicago."

"You don't deserve that," Pete says, leaning in closer towards me.

"Please," I scoff. "I would let that man get away with murder."

"You say that because you're young, and he's all you know."

"Maybe so, but why not wait for him? Relationships call for patience, right?" I say before the waiter sets our pizza down.

"You deserve to be happy _now_. That's all I'm saying." Pete tells me as he throws his hands up in surrender.

"What about you, huh?" I ask, folding my arms on the table. "How about _your_ life?"

"Mental health is a bitch, and relationships never work out like they should."

"Fuck yeah, but 'things are gonna get better', right? That's what the shrink tells me." I laugh.

Even though I'm joking, it was the truth. I thought my depression would magically disappear when I graduated, and that James and I would be joined at the hip right about now, but it didn't quite work out that way. It's crazy that Pete has a similar narrative.

Pete chuckles along with me before taking a bite of his pizza. We exchange a few awkward glances during our dinner that result in childish laughter.

After leaving the restaurant, Pete and I sit in his car, and I sit with my legs leaning towards the passenger door. The car ride is virtually silent, except for the faint sound of the Hot 100 playing on the radio. Pete had only turned the station to that because I wasn't too fond of hard rock.

"That's it?" I ask when I notice us pull up to my apartment complex.

"Yeah," he replies dryly.

"I don't really wanna go home."

_If I go home, I'm just gonna sulk and wallow in pity._

"Well, we have nowhere else to go," Pete says as he gets out of the car to let me out.

"You're right. Hey, thanks for this. I needed this."

"Anytime," Pete smiles and holds out his fist when I pull him to a appreciative hug. "Eden? Are you–"

"You should come in," I insist once I pull away. Nervously, I pull on the hem of my shirt, and Pete tugs at the sleeves of his hoodie.

Rather than responding, Pete just follows me inside of my apartment.

"Is this you?" Pete cackles as he picks up a photo of a younger me with my group of friends. "You were so cute!"

That was freshman year when I _thought_ everything would soon be fine in life, but that's actually when everything changed for the worse.

I take off my jacket and look over my shoulder to see Pete staring at pictures of James and I. His facial expression seemed more stoic in nature, and I notice him sigh before glancing back at me.

"We should–" we both say once we make eye contact.

"You first," Pete says.

"We should hang out again," I rub my arm, giving Pete a genuine smile.

Pete walks toward me, nodding slowly before we just stand in an uncomfortable quiet.

There's something tugging at me, and I can't tell if it's my mind, soul or something else. I really enjoyed tonight, no matter how simple it may have been. Getting my mind off of James's whereabouts was a relief, for sure.

Rising up on my toes, I place a small kiss on the corner of Pete's lips. I have no fucking idea what makes me do it, but at the moment, it seemed like a good idea. Immediately, my cheeks heat up with embarrassment, but even more shame. Technically, I just cheated on James, and he's only been gone for sixteen hours.

Pete's face is ambiguous, and that's the only way I can describe it. He looks shocked, upset and flattered all at once.

"Fuck," I gulp, stepping away quickly.

"What the fuck?" Pete's voice raises in volume as well as an octave in pitch, and I can tell by his nervous laugh that I've made him uncomfortable.

"I don't know why I did that."

"You have a boyfriend! He's basically the reason that I even took you out, and I was trying so hard not to flirt with you, but... what the _fuck_ , Eden?" Pete fusses, more confused than anything.

"Let's pretend that never happened," I try to convince him, my voice muttering swears under my breath.

"I'm gonna go," Pete says, practically racing to my front door and I open it to let him out. I wave at him as I wait for him to walk down the hallway.

He instead turns to me and– _goddammit_. There's this daring glare in his eyes, and a bold expression painted across his features. He then leans down slightly to meet my stature and our faces are merely inches away. I can smell him, his clean scent. And feel his energy– our bodies haven't met yet, but his proximity made me claustrophobic. Hazel eyes meet my deep brown ones, and my breath hitches as I finally understand what's happening.

However, I don't want it to stop.

_I'm not stopping him. I'm already damaged goods, and maybe I am the whore that my former classmates say I am. I am damaged goods, I am damaged goods, I am damaged g–_

That's when it happens. Our lips meet, and I hate it. Kissing Pete was terrible because it felt wrong. Why? Because it was. I've never felt so disgusting, but this kiss is just proof that I'm just hurt and desperate for affection. Apparently, from _anyone_.

Soon, our mere touching of lips became an intense lip lock, as Pete's fingers became entangled in my springy hair. After a minute, I get used to the feeling of his hungry, unyielding lips, and if I didn't hear my neighbor trying to get his door open, I'm not sure if we would have stopped.

We separate quickly, and Pete just backs away, nodding once, before telling me, "Good night, Eden."

"Good night, Pete," I stuck a section of my curls behind my ear before putting my hand up to wave.

Once Pete is gone, I go back into my apartment, my mouth gaped in shock of tonight's events. _What the hell did I just do?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! I really hope you guys are enjoying "WORD RIDDEN" as we slowly (but surely) get into the juiciness of the plot! I'm having so much fun writing, and I hope y'all are having just as much fun reading! Please give me honest feedback, and much love! -ELLE XOXO


	9. entry three.

**gardenofeden**

**crash n burn [14 Jul 2005|1:43 am]**

can someone please explain what is going on!!! i'm literally fucking crying!!!! i miss my boyfriend, i miss my friends, i miss school for some reason???? this doesn't make any sense. i've only been out of school for a few weeks and everything is already fucking me up. I HAVE WAY TOO MANY PROBLEMS, I WOULD LIKE IT NO ONE ADDED TO THAT. also why am i still dreamless? am i not good at anything worth going to school for? be honest. for real, everything is just kinda weird rn. hey world, it's your local ** who can't do anything right. anyway!!! ANYWAY gn

song of the week: afterglow by vanessa carlton (kinda old but still good)


	10. give me closure.

The sound of my loud TV coming on causes me to wake, and my telephone rings shortly after. James knows exactly when I wake up, and always wanted to be the first one I talked to. It was so sweet of him, even if it was a "Do something great today!" or a "Have a great day,  _dulzura_!", it meant something to me to hear a few words from him every day.

He's been gone for a week now, and it seems like the month should have passed by now.

My sluggish hands pick up the telephone, and I propose a stuffy, "Hey, baby."

"Hey, babe, I was calling you to tell you that I'm at the Universal CityWalk," James says cheerfully, and I sit up in bed to turn up the television's volume.

"That's great!" I try to match his tone, regardless of my tiredness. "Make sure to take tons of pictures for me."

"Of course."

"What else're you doing today?"

"Art conference for some networking, then I'm meeting the guy to work on the project," he says.

"I miss you already," I mutter sleepily.

"I miss you, too, Eden," he sighs. "Hey, I saw this post about this pizza place called Giordano's. You been there?"

"Yeah, actually,"  _Oh fuck, I almost forgot._  "I went after I dropped you off."

"Shit, lucky. The pics made the food look so good."

My brain just went into autopilot. James is still talking, and I continue to respond, but I'm thinking about last week.  _I cheated on James last week, and he doesn't even know._ He's never cheated on me. Ever. James won't even look at a music video with half-naked girls for too long without kissing me as a reminder that I'm his favorite girl, whether I'm naked or not.

_I cheated on my boyfriend._

"Baby? Baby? Babe? Babe, hey–" James's voice shakes me up, and I inhale a deep breath of air.

"Yeah, uh– yeah, I'm here, baby," I say.

"I have to go, but have a good day, okay?"

"I love you!" I exclaim. I'm trying to convince him  _and_  myself.

"Love you, too, dulzura."

"Bye."

"Buh-bye."

After taking a shower, I mess around on Myspace when my phone rings again.  _I don't have work today, who could it possibly be?_ I look at the screen of the pink flip phone, and the name across the screen worries me. It reads:  _pete :]_

I can't just ignore him, because he'll just show up at Oasis, and I'll have to deal with it then. It's been a week since  _that_  happened, and Pete has kept his distance, staying in the bookstore and not coming upstairs. Before answering, I mutter swears under my breath.

"Hello?" I say.

"Hey, I'm not gonna ignore the elephant in the room," he starts.  _Straight to the point, I see. Yes, I'm aware that we kissed last_ _week_ _._  "I'm sorry about last week, and it'll never happen again. I want shit to go back to normal."

That's exactly what I wanted to hear– what I  _thought_  I wanted to hear, but for some reason, it's still unsettling.

"I'm sorry, too."

"Alright, well... see ya tomor–"

"I actually wanna hang out," I say rather quickly.

Fridays and Sundays were my only off days, and Pete was the only person free who wasn't broke. Onyx is at work and still broke, and Leah is broke and practically living on her cousin's couch.

"So soon? You don't need some space?" he says, and I can tell he's skeptical.

Truth is, I've been thinking, and Pete and I's kiss wasn't too bad. It was  _wrong_ , I'm a  _cheater_  and a  _liar_ , and Pete doesn't deserve to be dragged into this, but something in my trainwreck of a brain told me that hanging out with Pete today would be a good idea. I don't even have an idea of where to go or what to do, but anything is better than wasting my day off cooped up in my apartment.

"No, everything's back to normal," I say. "Besides, I enjoyed last Thursday."

That may have come off as flirtatious, but I really did have a little fun spending time with him– just a little.

Pete coughs repeatedly, and his words are extremely choky. "Yeah, yeah, same here."

"I have Revenge of the Sith on bootleg," I chuckle. "So...."

"Oh, we're hanging at your place?" he says, his voice still relatively stale.

"Is that, like, okay?"

"Sure, sure. I just thought we'd be going– sure."

"Six o'clock?"

"Six o'clock."

•

 

"You what?" Leah and Onyx yell over the phone. It was just like high school– our gossip-filled three-way calls.

"I basically cheated on James," I groan. "And I invited Pete back over."

Onyx giggles, and soon Leah joins in with her. "Dude, I don't condone cheating, but that's hot,"  
Onyx says.

"We agreed it would never happen again," I say.

"Why not? Boring!" Leah whines. "The 2000s are all about women whoring around like guys do.

"Yeah," I say. "Except, I have a perfectly loyal boyfriend."

"Ooh, yeah, I forgot."

"What are you gonna wear when Pete comes over?" Onyx asks, resulting in me giving her a scoff.

"This is my apartment. Why does it matter?" I raise my voice. "I'm still in a bathrobe, so that's a no."

"Just asking," she murmurs.

"He'll be there in, like, 30 minutes. Get off the phone, you probably look a mess." Leah says, half  
jokingly, and the call ends on her end.

"Yeah, E. Have fun!" Onyx sings.

_Beep, beep. Beep, beep._

_•_

 

I search through my DVDs for the copy of Revenge of the Sith that I bought from the guy who loiters at the convenience store across from my apartment complex. After finding it, I realize that I don't have any snacks in the den. Working at Oasis made that type of thing a constant concern for me, and watching Star Wars with no snacks wouldn't be very enjoyable at all.

Soon, there's a bell.  _Ding, ding! Ding, ding, ding!_

I run to my room to quickly change into a camisole and Paul Frank shorts, and I let my hair down from its scrunchies.  _What am I doing? I'm doing it again. Just like last_ _week_ _._

When I look through the peephole of the front door, I gulp loudly before swinging the door open. Pete grins awkwardly at me before I move to the side and gesture him to come in.

"I got us some loaded fries," he says, carrying two bags in his hands. "I didn't know if you like that. I also got soda, or hard lemonade, whichever."

"Fuck yeah, perfect!" I smile, as I close the door behind me, staring at the ceiling briefly before walking towards the kitchen. I bring out candy and snack cakes before sitting on the couch.

Pete sheds off his jacket before sitting on the opposite side of the couch. "I've actually seen Revenge of the Sith before, but..."

"Nice time to say something, asshole. So have I." I laugh, before getting up to take the movie out of the DVD player and trying to find something else to watch.

"Oops? This was your idea, though." he chuckles.

"Pete?"

"What?" he asks, his smile diminishing.

"Have you ever been cheated on?"

Pete exhales, his fingers running through his hair. "Yeah, it fucking sucks."

"Oh."

"You?"

"Nah," I shake my head, looking down. "I haven't."

"If this about last week, it never happened. You and James are still the perfect couple," Pete says sarcastically.

_Perfect couple. I wish._

"I just don't know why it happened," I say.

"You're lonely."

"What's your excuse?"

"I'm just an idiot," he jokes. "I don't think of you as a cheater, Eden."

I walk back to the couch, this time sitting closer to Pete before patting his shoulder. "Thanks."

"Maybe I'm just saying that because it doesn't directly hurt me, but what James doesn't know can't hurt  _him_  either," Pete says, kicking his shoes off.

"I think it's just my libido, y'know," I snicker. "Girls have those."

"You two don't have sex when you see each other?" Pete says, raising an eyebrow.

"No," I mutter. "We're never in the mood at the same time, or there's not enough time."

"Bullshit," Pete sneers. "I would make t– fuck, let me shut up."

"I think it was pent up sexual frustration, last night, I mean," I say.

"You sure it wasn't my charming personality?" Pete says, poking my arm repeatedly. "Or my wooing smile? Or how I have a way with words?"

I roll my eyes, before turning away from him. "I just had a lapse of judgment."

Pete and I continue our conversation, and it actually becomes quite intellectual. He tells me about life, love, and lies, while I inform him of the ways how humor, humiliation and a lack of humility can really make a person. By 'a person', I mean  _me_. Pete falls asleep on my couch, and I realize that I've probably been rambling.

Looking at Pete's stagnant body, I slowly get up from the couch, trying not to wake him up. Picking up my cellphone, I quietly giggle to myself before snapping a few pictures of Pete. From his awkward sleeping position, his shirt has ridden up to expose a lower stomach tattoo. I can't quite make out what it is, but I bend down to look at the other tattoos littered across Pete's arms.

He's actually pretty attractive. I never cared to notice before, and I don't know why I do now, but he was... cute.

On several occasions, I glance at Pete's lips, remembering last Thursday, the night that supposedly never happened. His lips against mine, how it was so foreign and so wrong. _I have to stop. Why am I doing this?_

Bored and confused, I grab my laptop, sitting furthest away from Pete on the couch. Minutes turn into an hour, where I've been organizing my collection of photography and Pete has been fast asleep. Soon, I hear grunts, and Pete opens one of his eyes.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I fell asleep. My bad." Pete yawns and stretches, and I finally get to see his tattoo in its entirety. I still don't know what it means exactly, but I see a bat, heart, and skull. "I've abused my welcome, I'll go." he chuckles as he sits up.

"You're good," I quickly detach my eyes from his lower stomach, putting my laptop to the side.

"I have a headache. Do you have an Ibuprofen or something?" Pete says, one of his hands coming up to his head.

"In my room," I say. "Nightstand."

He follows me to my room, where I grab the painkillers and hand the bottle to him. He takes about three of the pills without water. After handing the bottle back to me, we just stare at each other in uncomfortable silence, waiting for the other to say something.

"Why do you always do that?" Pete asks, breaking our eye contact.

"What do you–"

"You do this thing," he laughs it off. "With your eyes. It's frustrating."

I turn to him, furrowing my eyebrows.  _What's all this about? Why's he acting weird all of a sudden?_

"Fuck...you?" I'm not sure how to respond to that.

"I didn't mean it like that, it's like, you're standing in front of me, and the way you– fuck it." he laughs, straightening out his clothes.

"No, explain," I command.

"You leave just enough to the imagination," he says, and I look down at myself to notice my nipples poking through my camisole and my shorts had been hiked up.

After tugging at my shorts and letting my curls fall across my features, I fold my arms across my chest in embarrassment and feel my cheeks rise in temperature.

"Good night, Eden," Pete says, making one small step in front of me.

"No, sit down," I order him as stand in front of him sternly.

"Eden."

"Your imagination," I say. "What about it?"

"This is silly," he says with a scoff.

"I wanna know."

"Just move, Eden."

Pete only keeps his eyes locked on the ceiling, avoiding eye contact with me at all costs.

_I always ruin everything good. Always. If I could predict the lottery numbers like I could predict my destructive attitude, I'd be rich._

"Were you going to stop?" I ask him.

Pete finally looks at me, and our eyes meet in a strong exchange. It's like he knows exactly what I'm talking about, because he exhales deeply, rubbing at his neck.

"Probably," he says. "You?"

"I'd like to think so."

"We haven't even known each other that long, Eden," Pete says, his expression turning into that of an ashamed man.

_He's right. It's been t_ _hree_ _weeks._

I feel just like I did that night, but stronger. There's a forceful pull that makes my heart feel like it's caught in my throat. My hands grip at his collar, and I pull him towards me.

"Can I? For closure." I whisper, my heart racing as I felt trapped in the warm environment of our mixed body heat.

Pete swallows hard, giving me a simple nod. His eyes are widened and his lips are slightly parted, like an enticement.

I walk forward, making Pete step backward. Pete starts feeling for something solid with his hand before finally finding my bed bench, probably the least sturdy thing. After sitting on it, I sit on his lap, my arms around his neck as I brush my lips across his teasingly. I glance at his mouth briefly before my eyes become victim to his. One of my hands slips down to Pete's chest. He's breathing heavily, his heart is beating hard where I can feel it, and he's so warm– warm like spring in Chicago.

"Pete," is all I can say, and I press my lips against his. They're so soft and inviting, just like before. His tongue brushes against my top lip, and I hesitantly open my mouth, obeying his subtle request. There's still this voice inside my head that screams: _'You whore! You cheater!'_  but also Onyx's voice rang  _"At least kiss someone else– all you know is James."_

 _Now_  I know Pete. He's diligent and very attentive in his affection, his hands stroking my back and pulling me forward until my chest meets his collarbone. Now I know that he loves sloppy, tenacious kisses because his tongue laps at mine hostilely and I'm not sure when we last breathed. He must be as touch-starved and attention starved as I am because he gets even closer when it seems like that isn't possible. My hands are now full of Pete's hair, and I bite at his bottom lip, resulting in a chuckle from him. I giggle back, and Pete squeezes at my hips aggressively.

_You're a cheater. James trusts you. It's not his fault that he can't be with you often. He loves you. He cares about you. He misses you. You're cheating on him with a guy you met t_ _hree_ _weeks ago. You're ruining something that's been going strong for four years. You're a disgusting, untrustworthy, disloyal, unfaithful, desperate whore._

Pete pulls away, a trail of saliva following him.

"Did you get it?" he asks, and I tilt my head in confusion. My eyes dance across his features as I watch him pant.

"What?" I reply, letting my arms go limp to my side.

"Your closure."


	11. paid vacation days.

"Why are you working during summer break, Miss Williams?" Mr. Quincy asks.

"I've got nothing else to do," I tell him with an indifferent shrug as I continue to clean tables and organize furniture.

"You've never taken a vacation other than during school mandated breaks, and now that you've graduated, you aren't gonna go take a trip?"

"Nah, I'm okay."

"You have about 65 paid off days that disappear if you don't use them," he says, patting my shoulder. "Think about that, kid. Alright?"

_Even my boss thinks I'm boring and need a life._

Mr. Quincy leaves, and Onyx takes his place. "What was that about?" she asks.

"Mr. Quincy says that I'm not using my paid leave days," I say.

"Yeah, because you're a fucking dumbass! I take all the days I can get," Onyx laughs, assisting me in tidying up the main room.

"Maybe I should take a day off."

"A day? A day, Eden? More like, uh, a couple weeks!" Onyx bucks her eyes, hitting my arm. "You're gonna work your ass off the whole gap year?"

_Onyx is right. Gap years are supposed to be adventurous. Maybe I should use my days, but then what?_

"Guess not," I sigh out, scratching my head in thought. "There's nothing for me to, like, do if I take off, though."

"We'll figure something out," Onyx says, placing her hand on her shoulder. "Besides, we can always– Leah!"

Leah wears a bright smile as she runs and hugs Onyx and I. We turn around to return the gesture.

"Guess what?" Leah asks, a smirk now on her lips as we all pull away from the hug.

"What?" Onyx and I reply in unison.

Leah takes a look around and leans in. "I have a sugar daddy," she whispers.

Onyx stands wide-eyed and mouth agape. I gasp in response, but soon giggle, grabbing her arm and shaking her. "Leah... no."

Having a sugar daddy was always something we joked about in high school, but who knew that one of us would actually get one?

"Yes!" Leah exclaims. "I'll have a pad really soon, thanks to this guy."

"How does that even, like, work?" Onyx asks.

"The internet–  _duh_ ," Leah says. "You know that PayPal thing? Yeah."

"Sick," I say, "Who knows what the internet will do in like, ten years."

"We'll be almost thirty. Ew." Onyx says as she frowns in disgust and rolls her eyes.

"Try being four years away," I hear a voice remark.

When I turn around, Pete is eating Reese's cup while sitting on top one of the tables I just cleaned.

"Long time, no see," I say with a snarky tone.

I haven't seen him since Friday, and it's Thursday. I know why he's been avoiding coming to Oasis, but his conversation usually got me out of doing some otherwise boring work.

_I cheated on James– again, Friday. Pete told me that I'm not cheating, lying whore, but I don't know whether I should believe that or not. We made out in my bedroom, where I've had no one except James._

"I've been busy, what can I say?" he shrugs and gives me a smug smirk. "I came to say 'bye' for a while."

_Bye? What?_

I scrunch my nose, shooing Pete away. "Get off that table, I just cleaned it."

Pete obliges and walks over to me and the girls before plopping down on an armchair.

"What are you girls talking about?" he asks.

"Nothing," we answer in unison, all of our voices going up a few octaves before we break out in a series of girly giggles.

"Well, Eden and I were talking about her taking a day off," Onyx says. "You're popular 'round here, what should she do?"

"Fall Out Boy's going on tour soon, maybe she can go with us," Pete says way too casually.

"A tour you say," Leah perks up, her eyebrows raising.

"Dude," Onyx nudges my arm. "That sounds fucking sick."

"And do  _what_ on this tour?" I spit, folding my arms.

"You can be a roadie," Pete says. "It'll be fun."

"No way," I say with the shake of my head.

"Onyx and Leah, you guys can come, too," Pete says, even though he looks at me.

"Sweet!" Leah beams.

"I-I- Thank you, I-" Onyx stammers in shock.

"If I go, what's in it for me?" I ask.

"You get to see something besides Chicago," Pete replies.

He doesn't even know, but I've barely outside of Illinois. My dad lives in Detroit, Michigan, so I see him on rare occasion, but for the most part, I was always stuck in Chicago.

"How long is the tour?"

"About a month," he says, and his eyebrows sink. "It's only a month."

"James'll be back by the end of the tour. Um, I wanna see him." I pout.

"He didn't have any problem going to  _California_ ," Onyx says.

"Hello," Leah says in agreement.

"Come on, Eden," Pete begs, attempting to use sad puppy eyes on me.  _It kinda works, not gonna lie._

"I don't even like emo," I huff. "Fine."

"Sick! I'll tell the guys," Pete smiles.

Pete writes:  _Meet us @ The House of Blues @ 4 AM then we'll head to Lancaster!_

"Thanks, bud," I say.

"Yeah, thanks, Pete. I can't wait." Leah says.

Onyx still can hardly breathe.

"No problem. It's gonna be crazy, you guys," Pete says excitedly.

"Well, I'm gonna go home and pack," Leah says as she slings her purse on her shoulder and waves us goodbye.

Onyx continues our prior duty of cleaning, as Pete and I share an uncomfortable silence.

"I can't believe you got me into this," I turn to Pete and laugh.

"I think it'll make your summer a little more fun," he says.

" _Sure_  it will," I retort sarcastically.

"Haven't I already made your summer a little more fun?" he teases quietly, his hand taking mine.

Snatching my hand away, I look to see if Onyx noticed before slapping his hand. "Shut the fuck up."

"You know, you never answered my question."

"What question?"

"Did you get your closure?"

"Yeah, I did," I look down, twiddling my thumbs.

_I'm a liar. No, I didn't._

"Good," Pete says. "I won't ask what it was."

_It was to find out if one last kiss would be enough for me to stop cheating on my boyfriend and let you become a distant memory– a one time– two-time thing. I'm not sure if it worked, because your jacket is on my bed, and I slept with it after you left my apartment._

"It's still, like, a little... fresh," I chuckle nervously.

"Gotcha," he nods. "So, are you gonna bring me my jacket back tomorrow?"

"We'll see."


	12. get a grip.

_Hoooooooonk! Honk, honk!_

My hands pluck up my digital camera, and I put it around my neck. Lazily, I roll my bags outside and lock up before struggling to get my belongings down the stairs. Leah and Onyx help me stuff my bags in the trunk, and I sit in the backseat, surrounded by baggage.

"Can you believe we're going on tour with one of the most popular bands in Chicago?" Leah turns around to say.

"An emo band at that," Onyx adds. "And you two– of all people–  _agreed_."

"That's a gap year for ya," I say, resting my head on a random duffel bag. "Drive."

The drive to the House of Blues wasn't nearly long enough for me to enjoy my nap. There's a knock on the window that wakes me, and my eyes open to see Pete and his mischievous grin. He opens my door and helps my limp body out of the car.

"Still sleepy?" Pete asks as I walk towards the bus with my hobo bag and pillow in between my arm.

"Fuck yeah," I yawn. "I don't know how you do it."

"Did you bring my hoodie?" Pete asks.

"No," I laugh. "Pink is my color."

"You can have it, then," Pete says once we get on the bus.

Onyx and Leah are already seated and fast asleep. Pete sits near the front and grants me the window seat, which I appreciate. I sit next to him, hugging my pillow tightly. Pete goes on about how excited he is for the tour and what being in a band is like. It's interesting, but talking at 4 o'clock in the morning isn't quite ideal. I still watch him through my sleepy eyes, his beautiful smile that makes his eyes crinkle, the twinkle in his eye whenever he mentions music or his best friends– it's really fascinating.

"Let the girl sleep, Pete," a blonde turns around to say.

"Ah, uh, I'm sorry, am I boring you?" Pete says as he glances at me with a light red tint on his face.

"N-no! I'm listening, uh–" I say as I perk up to seem alert.

"I'm Patrick," the blonde says, and I shake his hand.

"Sorry, I didn't even introduce you to the guys when you saw our show," Pete says, putting his palm to his forehead. "Patrick, Joe, Andy, Charlie, Dirty and..... where is he– Bob!" He motions to all of the guys.

"You're Eden, right?" Patrick asks, and I nod in reply. "I've heard a lot about you. Sorry about your club, by the way."

_He's heard a lot about me? That's pretty vague. Was it good talk? Did Pete trash me? He kinda has the right to._

"Eden's gonna be working as a photographer, for the most part," he says. This was actually the first time he told me what I'd be doing exactly. I didn't even bother to ask.

"Rad," Patrick smiles. "Nice to meet you, Eden."

"Nice to meet you, too."

My eyes flutter open, but I didn't even know that I had fallen asleep. My head rests on Pete's shoulder, where I've also drooled.  _How embarrassing._ Pete is awake and greets my newly opened eyes with a smile.

"We're almost there. You've been asleep for like, five hours," Pete says, and I notice that my hand rests on his thigh.

"Almost there? It's been," I glance at my cellphone. "Nine hours? Nine hours!"

"We'll be there before you know it. Besides, you'll be well rested and–"

_Brrrrrrr, brrrrr._

My phone vibrates loudly, reading:  _James <3_

I quickly answer, putting the phone to my ear. "James! Hey, baby."

"Hey, babe. I called earlier, are you okay?" James says worriedly.

"I'm fine, I'm just, uh, headed to Lancaster. Pete invited me to Fall Out Boy's tour as a roadie." I explain.

"Oh."

_Oh?_

"Yeah," I state simply.

"You like emo music now?"

"Not really, but it's growing on me," I remark with a small chuckle.

"Have fun, then. I miss you, dulzura," James says. "See ya later."

"Bye," I say before ending our call.

"That was dry," Pete says.

_It was, and I don't know why. Usually, our conversations aren't that short and boring._

"I think he just thinks I'm like, busy," I say and toss my phone back in my bag.

"Sure."

•

Working as a photographer with constantly moving subjects was difficult, to say the least, but they had given me this newfangled camera that had a constant shutter option. It put my camera to shame. I was constantly moving, trying to get good pictures of the boys while avoiding the hands of fans and the disapproval of security guards. Since there's several other photographers and videographers, I settle backstage early. This is where I see Gia, Fall Out Boy's publicist and occasional photographer/videographer, before I came, of course.

"Lemme see," she says, gesturing me to hand my camera over, which I do. "Yo, your photography is really good!"

"Really? I had to get used to the camera and the angles are kind of–" I start to ramble.

"Take the compliment," Gia says, putting her hand on my shoulder.

"It's nice to see another girl on tour who works hard," Gia tells me. "Usually there's just groupies and girls who get fired from road crew because they won't work."

"Hell yeah. I thought Leah, Onyx and I would be the only girls," I say.

"Leah and Onyx, Leah and Onyx, Le– ah, the merchandise girl and the errand girl."

"Yeah."

"Alright, this song is called Grand Theft Autumn," Pete says into the microphone. "He won't find out, baby."

The song starts and as I listen to the lyrics, they strike a nerve. ' _Where is your boy tonight?' I'd hate to be the girl they wrote this about._

"It's crazy how big this song's gotten them," Gia says. "I think we'll be doing huge arena tours soon."

"Yeah?"

"Definitely. They deserve it. They're good boys. They might do stupid, disgusting stunts and dumb pranks but... they aren't  _too_  bad," she laughs.

"Stunts and pranks, you say...."

•

"For fuck's sake, Peter, get down from there!" Bob yells. Gia peeks out of the hotel door, sighs, and walks back inside.

Pete is standing on top of the pool house of the hotel, about to jump into the pool. He told me to record it, and even though I don't wanna be a witness to Pete potentially breaking something, I'm the girl with the camera. He's laughing maniacally in nothing but hot shorts.

"You guys are so wild for making me do this!" Pete laughs loudly.

No one. No one. Literally,  _nobody_  dared him to do this.

"Are you recording?" Pete asks me.

"Sadly."

"Peter, you are going to get us  _put out_ of this motherfuckin' hotel." Bob continues to scold.

We just finished our sixth show and it's our second day in New York. I'm actually pretty comfortable with everyone now, which happened relatively quickly. This isn't my first time filming a stupid prank, a few hours ago Dirty was puking... after eating his own puke.

Pete cannonballs into the water, and even though I tried to distance myself, I find myself dripping like a leaky faucet and my glasses are foggy.

"I hate this boy," I mutter.

After seeing Pete's stunt, the other guys repeat the same action, and no matter where I move, I get drenched every time. The guys horseplay in the pool until the hotel manager kicks us out for being complete assholes.

"Eden," Pete says as he runs towards me when I try to step inside of the elevator.

"I'm like, dripping wet, so make it quick," I say as I stand awkwardly to compensate my clothes that now stick to my body.

"You're doing a good job, and I'm glad you're here," Pete tells me as we both walk into the elevator.

"Thanks."

"Yeah."

"Good night, Pete," I say once we reach my floor, and I walk towards the hallway and to my room.

Leah is laying on the sleeper sofa, surfing the Web and talking on the phone with who I can only assume is her parents, based on the extremely fast Spanish. Onyx is watching 90210 in a bathrobe and face mask.

"Why are you wet?" Onyx asks in a giggle.

"The guys were– pool."

I take a shower and leave my wet garments to hang dry, before changing into comfortable clothes. Sitting on the bed next to Onyx, I pull out my laptop and headphones and search for my flash drive. It's nowhere to be seen, and it has all of tonight's photos on it.

"Have you guys seen my flash drive?" I ask, and Leah and Onyx shake their heads. "Fuck!" My hands rummage through the hotel room and all of my bags, but I still don't see it.

 _Right, Gia. I gave it to her after the show to take a look._ Shuffling to put on slippers, I exit the hotel room, leaving my glasses behind, to go on Gia's floor. I walk past Pete's room, and there's a sock on the doorknob. It could be one of the other guys, but I'm still curious. Then, I hear voices as the elevator dings. Patrick, Joe, and Andy are conversing, as that's when my chest starts to feel like it's being squeezed. In an attempt of looking unsuspecting, I act as if I'm looking at door numbers–  _I'm so fucking stupid._

"Hey, Eden!" Andy says with a wave, and I squint. The other two guys mimic the wave and greeting.

"Hey, guys," I say. "Where's Gia's room?"

"386," Patrick says, motioning to the door right across from Pete's.

"She has a room to herself?"

"Yeah, since she used to be the only girl on tour."

"Thanks, guys," I say. "G'night."

"Night."

The guys go into a room where there's laughter and loud music. I knock on Gia's door and hear shuffling until she opens the door. "Hey! I barely recognize you without glasses."

_Classic comment._

"You have my flash drive, right? Please tell me you do." I furrow my eyebrow in worry.

"Oh, sh-shit, yeah," she says, before going back inside of her room, and getting my flash drive off of the coffee table. Gia tosses it to me. "Sorry 'bout that."

"Hey, Gia," I say. "You should room with us for the rest of the tour. Like, if you don't mind."

"Really? I like that idea!" Gia says, and her eyes light up like a Christmas tree. I've seen her be professional and pretty stoic for the past six days, so it's refreshing to see her like this.

"Cool."

Gia shifts her head to the side to look behind me. "Oh, Pete's got... company. Gross. Straight people, I'll tell ya."

_That's exactly what I was trying not to think about. Thanks, Gia. I know, I know, it's none of my business who Pete fucks, who he brings into his hotel room, etc. However, it still makes me uncomfortable. At the same time, I wanna know who the girl is. Probably one of those groupies Gia mentioned. I have a boyfriend, but that doesn't negate the fact that I'm extremely sexually frustrated and even further away from him than before._

My head shoots down and I purse my lips. "Well... thanks, Gia. Night."

"Wait, wait! You have a boyfriend, right...?" Gia asks.

"Yeah...?"

"Good, maybe Pete will get a grip," she whispers. "He's totally into you."

_Yeah, he's so into me that he's fucking another girl right across the hall. Not that I should care. And trust me, he's not the only fucking one that needs to get a grip._

"I'm definitely not into him."

"Good, 'cause he can get really pathetic. I hope you don't become a song," she jokes. "Night."

When Gia closes the door, I take a deep breath and walk down the hallway. Something stops me in my tracks and I tip over to Pete's door, and put my ear to the wood. Nothing. Somehow, that's even more unsettling than if I had heard something.  _What the fuck am I doing?_

_There's only one person I'd put a sock on the doorknob for._


	13. entry four.

**gardenofeden**

**tour stuff [4 Aug 2005|2:27 am]**

 

im really enjoying touring with fall out boy. everyone is really cool and there's never a dull moment. pete has me filming all of his stunts and pranks and shit, which is.... ahahahah. patrick is really great at singing, please be nice to him or everyone in our group will slap the shit out of you

i miss james a lot, and i haven't talked to my parents in a while. i guess that's a part of being like an adult or whatever but i do get super fuckin homesick.

so yeah, things aren't THAT bad. the one thing that's bugging me can't be posted on lj without drama sooooo :/

anyways, here's the remaining dates for the bnd tour!!! 

8/5 Myrtle Beach, S.C. (House of Blues)  
8/7 St. Petersburg, Fla. (Jannus Landing)  
8/11 Dallas (Nokia Live)  
8/12 Austin, Texas (Stubbs BBQ)  
8/13 Houston (Verizon Wireless Theatre)  
8/15 Tempe, Ariz. (Marquee Theatre)  
8/17 Los Angeles (Wiltern Theatre)  
8/19 San Diego (Soma)  
8/20 Sacramento, Calif. (Cal State University)  
8/23 San Francisco (Warfield Theatre)  
8/24 Chico, Calif. (Cal State Chico)  
8/25 Las Vegas (House of Blues)  
8/27 Salt Lake City (Promontory Hall)  
8/28 Denver (Fillmore)  
8/30 Omaha, Neb. (Sokol Underground)  
8/31 Minneapolis (Myth)  
9/1 St. Louis (Pageant)  
9/2 Des Moines, Iowa (Val Air Ballroom)

song of the week: grenade jumper by fall out boy (pete told me to do it)

also some pics of the boys


	14. been a while.

My manic legs pace around the hotel room as I struggle to find something to wear today– something that won't be completely filthy (or soaked) by the end of tonight's show. Today's our Los Angeles show, and I had called James to tell him that I'd be in town, and he agreed to visit me after the show tonight. Fuck, am I excited to see him! He always looks so good in his little artsy outfits and I just adore the way he picks me up and envelopes me in his warmth presence every time he sees me.

The room feels like it's spinning, and I feel my teeth grinding against each other and my hands nervously tapping my thighs once. I hold up an emerald green sundress, only to put it down in defeat.  _Green is James's favorite color, but a sundress is too risky to wear while running around. Fuck it, he'll be excited to see you, either way, just put on something simple._

There's a knock on the door that raises the hairs on my arm. I know it's not James, but knowing that I get to see him today just makes me anxious– in a good and bad way. When I see Pete through the peephole, an exasperated breath leaves my lungs. I crack the door slightly to peek at him.

"What?" I ask, a tinge of force in my voice.

"I got worried, 'cause you weren't at breakfast," Pete says. "I'll, uh, let you get dressed."

After closing the door to get dressed, I let Pete in. "Sorry, I just wanna look good tod–"

"You're seeing him today?"

"Yes," I sigh, a smile slowly spreading across my lips. "I told Gia to film whatever stunts or whatever, and I'll make it up to her."

"Until then," Pete says. "Breakfast?"

We go to breakfast together, having our usual conversations about what city we were in, how long we'll be here and what activities to get into. Pete promises that while we're in Los Angeles, we'll go to Venice Beach.  _I've never been to the beach before– never felt the sand between my toes, squirming at seaweed brushing against my leg, never blocked the sun with a visor. I wonder if James has._

"Hey, Eden, you okay?" Pete says, his hand resting on top of mine that rest in my lap. "You drifted off."

_Don't I always?_

"Huh?" I slur, my vision becoming clearer by the second. "Sorry, I was thinking about– about the beach."

"I'm excited, too. "

"Pete," I say. "This is, like, my first time traveling outside of Chicago and Detroit, and I just– thanks for inviting me."

"No proble–"

"You don't get it," I interrupt him. "Really, thanks."

"I wanted you to know how it feels when someone takes you with them," he says. "Y'know?"

_'I wanted you to know how it feels when someone takes you with them'._

•

I'm tapping my foot against the tile of the hotel lobby, slowly sinking into a memory foam chair as I anticipate the call of my boyfriend. He's only ten minutes late, but that's ten minutes that we could have been face to face. After all, it's been about a  _month_. I see curly hair appear in the glass, making me shoot up from my chair, going towards the door. James swings the door open, hoisting me up to put his face in my neck. His stubble is scratchy and uncomfortable, but I love it nonetheless because it's his.

"I missed you!" I exclaim, grasping his shirt as tears start to well up in my eyes. Tiny hiccups escape me, and the sniffles begin, prompting James to put me down.

"No, no, no,  _baby_!" James says, crouching down to brush his finger against my cheek. "Don't cry! I missed you, too!"

"M-My bad, it's just been a while."

_'_ _What about you, Eden? Who are you without your boyfriend?_ _'_

When we go back to my room, and I search for a sock,  _just in case._ Once I slip the sock on the doorknob, I lock the door behind us, pulling James down to clasp his lips onto mine. He picks me up effortlessly, letting me fall on the ivory hotel sheets before wrapping my legs around his waist.

"I missed you so much," James says in between kisses. "Should we make this qui–quick? Since you, uh, have roommates and all?"

"They'll find somewhere to go, now c'mon."

Our clumsy hands slip each other's shirts off, and James leaves kisses all over my neck, torso, and hips. My mind slowly blurs as James and I continue, but I still feel his sensual touch, the same things he's always done. We make out, give each other oral, the stuff you see in "for her" porn since he was always concerned with my pleasure. Our sex has always been good because it's romantic.  _Romantic sex is the best... right?_ Truth is, I've always wanted to experiment, but James is as vanilla as they get.

"Fuck, baby," James pants against my neck as he thrusts inside of me, his hands holding my hips affectionately.

Our breaths soon match as he starts to move faster, but he stops my moans by attaching our lips together. He thrusts into me with a shudder, finally climaxing. Then, James detaches from me, planting wet kisses all over my face.  _I missed him so much, and this is what I wanted, but it sucks that he came and I basically just threw sex in his face._

His touch lingers on my skin long after we finish, and we embrace each other, enjoy the intimacy that fills the atmosphere.  _This is what I missed. If only we were in Chicago, in my bed, where no one could bother us and he could stay as long as he wanted._

"What time is it? We can't keep your roommates out all night," James says, and I find my clothes and fix my skewed glasses.

"It's almost 1 am," I answer, pulling on my shorts after my shirt. "You want a drink before you go?"

"Sure," he nods, fastening his jeans. "Vodka on the rocks– it's not like I'm driving."

"Ah, fuck. Ice machine," I say, once I notice the lack of ice in our mini freezer. "I'll be right back, and put your clothes on!"

After grabbing the ice bucket, I toss the sock back in our room at random before walking, my vision blurred from the smudges created by both me and James. My bare feet shuffle lazily down the hall to go in the vending room and–  _just who I wanted to see._

"Hey!" Pete beams, his smile mimicking the fluorescent bulbs above us.

"Yo," my hoarse voice manages.

Pete steps towards me and starts to say something, but his smile quickly disappears and he leans away, seeming displeased by something.  _Fuck. I probably look awful._  He draws out a quiet chuckle while our eyes meet for what seems like an eternity, and it feels as if he's mocking me. My breaths become slower as I start to avert my gaze and step back.

"Nice shirt, loser," Pete says, making me glance down at my now wrinkly green 'Fall Out Boy is for lovers!' t-shirt. He takes a Reese's cup and Mtn Dew from the vending machines before leaving. "G'night, Eden."

"Night, Pete," I say, putting my ice bucket under the machine.

"And tell your boyfriend there's no ice."


	15. beaches keep secrets.

Taking a shower only washes the James off of me, and it's like I can feel his touch spiraling into the drain, never to be felt again. Last night, James and I had sex for the first time in months, but I can't help but regret not spending that time wisely. We could have done anything– had a long conversation, gone out to eat, drank and watched a romantic comedy, anything. We chose sex. It's been so long since we had an intellectual conversation, I'm sure his ideals has somewhat shifted. It's not like I'd know.

_At least we're going to the beach today._

"Hey, everyone," I say as I enter the hotel dining hall, picking up a granola bar that was probably left over from breakfast.

"Hey, come sit over here," Gia says, and I sit in the seat next to her.

"Where's Onyx and Leah?" I ask.

"I don't know, but listen," she says in a whisper, tugging on my shirt, pulling me towards her. "Is Onyx... gay? Is she, like, into girls?"

_Where is this coming from? Onyx has never opened up to me about being anything other straight, and we're best friends. I'd like to think that she trusts me enough to tell me that._ _Especially me._

"Uh, no," I answer. "Why?"

"I think she's fucking  _hot_."

This statement makes me freeze mid-bite, and I put my granola bar down, laughing hysterically at Gia's comment.

"What?"

"Onyx is attractive, yes," I say. "But I'm almost certain that she's straight."

"Fuck," Gia says, slapping her leg. She lets out a disappointed sigh. "Aren't  _you_ , like, bi or something? No one's straight in this scene."

"Well–"

I'm interrupted by Leah, who carries a beach bag in the bend of her arm. "Are you guys talking about how gay Gia is?" she teases, resulting in Gia throwing a napkin at her.

"Apparently for Onyx, too," I say in a giggle.

"Where is Onyx, anyway?" Gia asks. "She left the hotel room early this morning."

It's been almost an hour, and Onyx breathes heavily as she stomps on the bus, coming from God knows where. Luckily, we didn't plan on leaving early.

"Sorry, guys," Onyx heaves. "I had to run some errands." She sits next to Gia, causing Leah, Gia and I to exchange silly glances.

As I look through last night's photo, Pete sits next to me with a blank expression on his face. The usual glimmer in his eye is gone, and I close my laptop to turn to him.

"Afternoon," I say, nudging his shoulder. "You weren't at breakfast this morning."

"Hey," he replies nonchalantly.

"Do you wanna... talk, or like, I don't know."

There's no answer given, Pete only stares forward blankly, moving only to let out a disappointed sigh. He seemed fine last night, I don't know what could have happened in less than 24 hours. Seeing Pete like this isn't something I'm familiar with, and it's just... uncomfortable, mostly because it reminds me of my episodes. I slowly shift my body closer to Pete, allowing my hand to hold his, my thumb running across the back of his hand repeatedly. There's laughter and joy on the bus as we travel to Venice beach, but Pete and I stay quiet the whole ride. Multiple people ask what's wrong with him, but he only answers that he's 'tired'.

"Eden, you comin'?" Gia asks as she, Leah and Onyx carry their bags off the bus.

"I'm gonna take some pictures, but I'll catch up with you," I say, pulling out my tour camera and handing it over to Gia. "Here. Just in case something happens while I'm M.I.A."

Everyone gets off the bus, leaving me with Pete.

"Do you wanna take a walk with me?" I ask, pushing my glasses back on my nose.

"Not right now," Pete says. "Sorry, that sounded rude. I just–"

"I understand," I say.

My chest feels with an unhealthy mixture of pity and empathy, and I lean down to press my lips against Pete's forehead before pulling away slowly, my hand cupping his cheek. His response is an exasperated sigh and half smile, one that I can tell is fake. I know fake all too well. I leave the bus with my camera and hobo bag, before stripping to my swimsuit once the soles of my sandals meet the California sand.

 _Click, flash. Click, flash_. I take pictures of the scenery until I find myself distant from everyone else. There are palm trees that compliment the emerald in my bikini. After laying down my towel, I sit down with my copy of  _Uglies_ , enjoying the shade that the trees create. It makes sense why people love beaches.

_The beauty of this soon-to-end Earth never ceases to amaze me._

"Eden," I hear from behind, and I look over my shoulder to see Pete in sunglasses, smiling.

"Pete!" I say, realizing that that was way too eager. He was pretty somber an hour ago, so seeing him in what seems to be a good mood makes me feel better.

He joins me on my towel, pointing a bowl of fruit in my direction. "Fruit?"

"Thanks," I snicker, taking a chunk of pineapple into my mouth.

"Sorry about earlier, I'm stressed and things get really fucking hard, y'know? Tour is stressful," Pete explains. "Sometimes, I feel like this isn't a job for someone who can't enjoy it all the time."

"Shut up," I say. "Pete, this job is for you. You're great at what you do and you're successful."

_Pete has dreams, and I'm jealous of him for that. He puts his foot in every door he can, and I won't even acknowledge that the doors exist._

"Thanks," Pete says.

"Yeah."

"You seem happier after last night," Pete says in a sigh.

"I do?" I say, glancing down shyly. "James and I saw each other, so...."

"He's your first boyfriend, right?"

"Yeah."

"And he'll be your last?"

"Yeah."

Pete cackles heartily, grasping at his chest. "What? You think you're gonna marry your high school sweetheart!"

"Whaaaat?" I whine, folding my arms. "Don't you date to marry?"

"If I don't date to marry at twenty-six," Pete starts, poking my arm. "You shouldn't be dating to marry at eighteen."

"Whatever," I mutter.

"Why do you wear so much green?"

"It's James's favorite color," I say.

"Well, wear yellow."

"Why?"

"It's mine."

Pete reaches over, taking my sunglasses off to reveal my eyeglasses. People always thought that it was dumb that wear them both, but until I can afford the ones that adjust, I wear both. We share the same awkward eye contact that we always do, but this time, it's got a purple prose feeling to it. We're alone on a beach, the sun's setting, he's here, I'm here.

_You just saw your boyfriend last night, and you're already back to your little thing with Pete? It sure isn't love, it isn't an infatuation, it isn't even a crush– it's just a thing. Something._

"Do any of the guys know?" I ask.  _He knows what I mean._

"No, no,  _no_ ," he responds defensively. "I didn't want them to meet you and think that– y'know, like–"

"Yeah," I say and nod. "Thanks."

"Do Leah and Onyx know?"

_He kept my secret, but I guess it's his secret, too. Maybe I shouldn't have spilled, but I was extremely manic at the moment because everything was just a shock. Lie. Lie. You've lied all this time! Just tell him 'no'._

"No."

"I feel kinda stupid," Pete says, and I raise my head to look at him.

"Well, you are kinda stupid," I joke. "For what?"

"For... this." He means  _us_.

"I dragged you into all this," I say quietly.

"I allowed this to happen," he sighs. "Which sucks, because I like you," Pete says this way too casually for my comfort and chuckles it off like it's not a big deal.

"Oh. Huh."

_So it's been confirmed. Pete.... likes me. It's the same terminology from when you're immature– like. I thought that this was just a circumstantial thing for him like it is for me, but only the course of a month, Pete has come to.... like me. That just makes me feel even shittier. I didn't know feelings would get involved._

"Whatever," he chuckles, bumping into me playfully. "Fuck it, I–."

"I feel so sorry for you," I tell him, looking at him with concerned pupils.

"Don't," he says. "It's not like  _he'll_  find out."

"He won't."

My textured hand runs up his warm arm before I lean in to brush my lips against his. This action makes me shiver, but I lock our lips nonetheless, my hand resting on Pete's stomach, as I feel the bone and muscle under. The sound of the serene waves rolling and our staggering breaths fills my ears, a sweet noise. Pete snatches away abruptly, letting out a stressed sigh, before looking around suspiciously. He stands up, looking down at me with fiery eyes that cause my heart to miss a few beats.

"I can't," Pete says, clenching his hair to his scalp like it'd fall out if he didn't. "You fucking love him, you wear his favorite color more than your own, you think you're gonna  _marry_  him. You're so stupid– stupid, young, pathetic and in  _love_."

The aching in his voice is a needle, stabbing at my brain, and I could feel my throat starting to swell as I choke back tears.  _I can't let him see me like this. He can't know that he has the power to hurt me_. I pull my knees up to my chest insecurely, glancing at Pete's stance above me. He's laughing.

"You just fucked him last night," he continues. "You had the hair, the smell, everything. You fucked him, and I tried to  _listen_."

At this point, I'm putting all of my stuff back into my bag, avoiding tears that seem to be waiting to drip from my eyes. However, the tears start to stream down my heated face, and I wipe them away violently, hiccuping to hide my sniffling.

"I wanted to know why you still hold on. You fucked him last night, and I waited, I waited for you to call me, or– or text me, I–"

"I get it, Pete! Shut the fuck up, I fucking get it!" I yell as I get up, shoving past him.

"I'm not desperate, but you! You! You just–"

"I tried to listen to you, too, y'know!" I yell as I stomp towards him. "So, fuck you! You're acting like you fucking care that I have a boyfriend! That just means I'm someone else's problem, not yours, so fuck you!"

"The pretty, innocent-looking ones are always fucking evil. Always."


	16. joke to you.

Believers Never Die has taught me that fighting is damn near impossible while on tour. If you have a problem with anyone about anything, someone's gonna know. Despite Pete and I's scuffle a couple of days ago, we had somehow mutually agreed to play nice and be cordial to each other, even though there hasn't been the slightest communication between us since the beach. Being the boys' photographer, I spend my time knowing their every move while we're at a show.

_He told me that he has feelings for me like an idiot, then proceeded to scold me! Like I'm the problem! What a fucking twat._

Ever since my argument with Pete, we've made eye contact during "Grand Theft Autumn" way too often for it to be a coincidence. Every show since Los Angeles, he glances at me during the pre-chorus and bridge. Tonight, though, he stands at the edge of the stage, where I'm a few feet away, standing on a step stool to capture pictures. He plays right in front of me, mouthing:   _"You need him, I could be him, I can be an accident but I'm still trying, and that's more than I can say for him."_

I've grown to practically despise this song.

"It must be a  _joke_  to you..." I say like he could hear my angry mutters over a room of screaming emo kids.

Once the set is over, I brood silently, storming back to the guy's dressing room to get more photos. I avoid eye contact with Pete at all costs. Soon, we board the bus, heading to Chico.

"Are you and Pete okay?" Leah leans over to whisper.

"Yeah, everything's fine, I'm just switching it up a little," I explain monotonously.

•

We were at a truck stop, slushies in hand, trying to get a cool breeze of air from outside. I had pulled my frizzy curls out of my face with a cheap headband, videoing Gia and Dirty's usual banter, Gia yelling at Dirty about how gross he is, and him just continuing to be just that.

Taking a slow sip of my drink, Pete passes me with  _her_. She's a groupie that Pete has been in close quarters with for the past three days. Colbi, with her split-end ridden hair, definitely from a bad bleach job, skinny body clad in a t-shirt dress and dirty creme converse, and blue eyes that were so cerulean that I questioned if they were contacts or not. She had tried to become friends with Leah, Onyx, Gia, and I, but it was evident that she thought because we were girls just like her, we were groupies like her. When Pete was busy, she'd try to strike up a conversation with us.

"What are you guys doing?" her preppy voice rings.

"Editing our itinerary," Gia answers.

"Making a to-do list," Onyx says.

"Making sure that the merch has been restocked," Leah grunts, staring attentively at a laptop screen.

I quickly put my earbuds in before Colbi could even glance my way, even though there was no music to stop me from hearing her talk.

"Eden? Eden?" Colbi tries to get my attention. "Guess not."

While she tries to cozy up to the girls, I stare at her with through the glare of my glasses. She's not that cute. She's just a skinny, pale scene queen, like the ones on Myspace. If that's what Pete's into, I wonder what the girls he writes about look like. I don't care who he fucks, who he writes songs about or who he falls in love with. It stills makes me uncomfortable, though. Especially when the girl has the nerve to stick around like she cares about anyone but Pete.

"Are you and Pete dating?" Gia asks, looking up from her stack of papers momentarily.

Colbi sighs, biting her red-tinted lips. "I wish," she says. "I know I'm not his only, like, fling, I guess."

Her face is that of a lonely soul. It's obvious that she has feelings for Pete, but it's also obvious that she's wasting her time. She's right, she's not his only fling.

"How much longer?" Leah yells, evidently irritated by the tense environment that Colbi created.

"Uh... 20 minutes?" Andy responses back.

"Fuck."

•

"Cute," I muse as the guys pose for a silly picture. "Alright, now get out there."

The set goes as usual until Grand Theft Autumn. It was no longer the uncomfortable stares that I had to avoid by snapping photos at random. This time, Pete was smiling at me, posing for photos happily, something that didn't match the relationship we were supposed to have right now.

_He's mocking me._

My face grows hotter by the second, and my eyebrow raises in defense. At this point, I was furious, and Pete feeds off of this, looking down at me with his tongue grazing across his lips that he occasionally bites. Once the show comes to a close, I stomp backstage, my shoulder bumping into Colbi's as I let out an annoyed growl.

_How dare he? Why won't he just apologize? Why won't he just apologize and get rid of Colbi? No one fucking likes her, and I bet she's the same slut from the first day. Fuck him._

"Eden," Pete calls once we get on the bus, his hand taking hold of my forehead.

"Fuck you," I hiss, snatching his hand off of me.

This is all done in front of Colbi, who slouches on the sofa that she sits on. She whispers over to Pete when he sits next to her, and she takes a glance at me, resulting in me grimacing in indifference of her.

"Nice show, everyone," Gia announces. "Now let's get to Vegas, yeah?"

Everyone responds cheerily, and we make our way down the road towards Vegas. I prop my feet up on the table in front of me, pulling out my laptop and earphones. Myspace and LiveJournal are full of pictures of my former schoolmates who are preparing to go to college next month. There's a sense of jealousy that resonates in my spirit because everyone seems to have it all together. They have dreams, aspirations, and plans, and I, the little theater kid with a camera, can only hope and pray that my gap year gives me some type of revelation. I bet the pieces of shit who antagonized me in high school think I'm a dumbass for taking a gap year. I am a dumbass, but for other reasons.

_Could I hold a camera for 45 years until I retire? Will I make any money in the real world at all? Or will I end up back in my mom's arms, cooking breakfast for her while still working at Oasis at 30 years old?_


	17. entry five.

**gardenofeden**

**(** ◕ **ω** ◕✿ **) [26 Aug 2005|7:53 am]**

 

today's our second day in vegas!!! tours been really fun! shoutout to gia for becoming my friend over the past month! i love her, and hanging out with my best friends and the guys has been fucking amaaaaaaaazin!! ᵔᴥᵔ today's our day just to hang out, but you can't really do anything in vegas when you're under 21, but i think i just wanna window shop and eat anyway.

i'm getting a little homesick, and james has missed a few of my calls which is unusual for him. i think we're gonna try that skype thing, which would be good for us. plus, i haven't talked to my mom since the first week of tour. yikes. i miss you, chicago.

it's been a while since i had an depressive episode, so that's kinda sick. yay for me???? for being kinda okay for once ahahah

me and "lemon" are having problems, but it's whatever, "lemon" will apologize if they know what's good for them. besides, "lemon" can't resist.

here's my lil cutie gia!! <3<3

       

song of the week: give it up by fefe dobson

also yes im using the little emoticon thingys now ! theyre so cuuuute <('o'<)


	18. we see ourselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: SMUT

"Is this good for you?" Onyx asks me as our group sits at a booth of a Tex-Mex restaurant. "Like, the gap year thing."

"I don't know yet," I sigh, swirling my straw around the pink lemonade in front of me. "It's only been two months."

"Damn," Onyx lets out. "It's super weird to think that we won't be going to college together."

"College isn't even all that hard, and you don't even have to know what you're doing when you go," Gia tells us. "I changed my major five times, graduated with a business degree, and look what I'm doing with it. I'm a publicist, or whatever the fuck."

"College just isn't for me," Leah says, tucking a section of hair behind her ear. "I think I wanna be a hairdresser or something, y'know? Make people look pretty."

"I wanna be an author," Onyx says. "Like, dystopian novels and stuff– the shit  _you_  got me into." Onyx looks at me when she says this, and I'm surprised to hear that I had an influence on the type of novels she wants to write. "It's geeky, I know."

"I'd read 'em," Gia says, slowly punching Onyx's shoulder playfully. The two glance at each other, both mimicking a beet by the face.

"Gap year is fun as of now," I state. "You guys are with me for now, so...yeah."

_I'm the only one with no plan. I'm just a stupid girl taking a gap year. They're all gonna leave me when they realize how lazy and unmotivated I am._

"Let's get out of here," Leah says, getting up from our table. "Sneak into a club or get into some shit."

"Sneak? Wh–Oh, yeah, you guys are little  _babies_!" Gia teases, her voice rising an octave.

Sometimes I forget that Gia is in her twenties. Her baby face would lead anyone to think that she had just graduated high school like Leah, Onyx and I.

We walk out into the Las Vegas nightlife, staring out at the blinding lights that could probably disintegrate me if I stood still long enough. It's like you need sunglasses at eleven o'clock at night. I've never been in a place like this, and I see why people save money for a lifetime to get here.

"Pull up your shorts," Leah says as we approach a club on The Strip. "We need a way in."

"Wh-what!?" I exclaim. "Why the fuck do I have to–"

"You have a nice ass!"

"Fine, but only if you pull your shirt down a little bit," I give in, pulling my shorts up a little further, probably mere nanometers away from a camel toe.

Swirling shimmery gloss on my lips, I twirl my hair around my finger once we get to the bouncer. Onyx, Leah and I have done this so many times at clubs, it's not even funny. Flirt with the bouncer, name the name of a person whom you overheard has a party in the club, the bouncer ogles over your body, barely glances at your ID, (if he asks for it at all) and  _boom_! You get in. It's an old cliché trick, but it works just fine... most of the time.

"Oh my God, oh my fuck– Ryan Ross," I hear Onyx's shaky voice squeal as she points to the floor above us.  _She's doing the fangirling thing again, oh God._

"No way!" Gia yells. "It's Panic!"

"Who?" Leah and I ask in unison.

"Panic! at the Disco!" Onyx shrieks.

"Pete's, like, totally into them," Gia says. "I know them personally. We can, like, go up there if you want."

Onyx's face basically becomes that of this club itself. She smiles brightly, shaking her bottom excitedly.

"Good luck with that, emo fuckers. We'll be having actual fun," I announce, before Leah and I walk over to the bar, hopping up on one of the empty stools.

"A mimosa, please," I say to the bartender.

"Hurricane for me," Leah says before turning to me. "I'm trying to get fucked up tonight. If you don't get fucked up, did you really go to Vegas?"

"As long as you walk yourself to the bus," I laugh.

•

"Dude, I think Onyx and Gia are a thing," Leah tells me.

"Newsflash: Onyx isn't gay."

"That's what I thought at first! But I think we rubbed off on her."

"So being bisexual is contagious?" I sip my mimosa sparingly once I get it. "Everyone's gay– it's 2005."

"Should we ask if she–"

"Fuck no, that's a terrible–."

"Excuse me, miss," a guy stands beside me to say. He rests his arms on the counter, shining his pearly whites in my direction.

He's a tall glass of water with long wavy hair, a groomed beard, and dark, sunken eyes. That's all I can make out in the darkness of the club, and strobe lights don't help. You can tell he picks up chicks at clubs like he gets paid for it. The smolder, the fashion sense, the compliments, the whole nine.

"Mmm." I look at him from top to bottom.  _Not bad, kinda handsome_. "'Sup?"

"I don't mean to interrupt, but," he takes my hand, lifting it to his mouth to place a light kiss on my knuckles. "I think you're fucking amazing."

This is the type of guy you read about in erotic romance novels, but instead of at a coffee shop, I met him in a nightclub. The temperature of my cheeks rises, and I look back at Leah briefly to give her a worried expression. She only gives me a thumbs up.  _Thanks for the help, bestie._

"Wow, thanks," I say, stumbling over those two words.

"You like mimosas? I'll buy you as many as you want."

"Two more would be kinda nice," I say, offering the gentleman a cutesy smile.

"Got it." He orders them and starts chatting me up, but the whole time, I'm distracted by a hiccuping Leah resting her head on my back.  _If she throws up, I'm the only one here to take care of her. Fuck._

After taking the drinks he bought me, Leah and I try to find a new place to sit, since that guy was definitely gonna make a move soon. I already have a boyfriend and a Pete, the last thing I need is some guy I just met trying to get a room with me. We find ourselves walking around on a higher level, drinks in hand. I was slightly tipsy. Slightly! However, Leah was just a fucking  _mess_. I couldn't just leave her, but taking her anywhere else would be a vomit fest.

"Hey, guys," I say once we get to Gia and Onyx who sit with a group of four guys who look like they haven't hit puberty yet.

"This is Eden," Gia says, gesturing over to me. "The photographer and videographer I was talking about." She glances over at Leah's swaying drunk body and decides against introducing her.

"Oh, sorry. My bad. Hi," I greet the guys, reaching out to shake all four's hands. "I'm Eden Williams."

They introduce themselves as Ryan, Spencer, Brendon, and Brent– Panic! at the Disco, a rising emo band that Pete has taken notice to in the past few months.

"Pete just texted, he's gonna be here in 45 minutes," Gia says.

_That's my cue! My cue to leave this fucking club!_

"I'll be right back," I point towards the restrooms.

"You sure you don't want someone to come with you?" Onyx asks.

I quickly shake my head before making my way through the crowd before my shoulder grazes against someone else's once I get downstairs.

"Sorry," I say.

"Eden."

_Fuck. Of course._

"They're upstairs," I say coldly.

Pete stops me in my tracks when I attempt to walk past him. "We're gonna talk this out."

"Right now? Like, right now!?" I complain, rolling my eyes as Pete blocks my every step.

"Yes, come on."

After what seems to be a lifetime of walking and useless arguing, Pete leads me to a lower level than the first floor– almost like a basement, but you could tell it was still a part of the club by the space filled with chairs, tables and most of all, people. We're met with a door with a sign that reads: "For Employees Only!" but Pete tries the knob and we go in regardless. Now, we're in a practically empty room that holds nothing but a few beanbags, a mirror that takes up a whole wall, and a TV.

"We aren't supposed to be in here," I bark, folding my arms across my chest. "And I don't wanna fucking talk to you anyway."

"I didn't fucking  _drag_  you here, so obviously– I'm not going to argue with you again, Eden."

"Whatever."

"I was unstable when I said all of that, okay?" he explains. "I'm sorry."

"What about that stunt you pulled during Grand Theft Autumn the other day?" I question, and Pete chuckles in response. "So it's funny. 'Kay."

"No, I had to get your attention somehow. I thought it would be less awkward than an apology."

"It just pissed me off," I whisper.

"Did it?" Pete says teasingly as he veers down to press his lips against my neck. The tingle of his breath against my skin makes me shiver, and I place my hands on his biceps. His hands snake around to my hips, pulling me forward assertively. "I like it better when you kinda hate me. That way, you're like everyone else."

My bleary eyes meet his before closing to brush our lips together in what seems like slow motion. His face bumps against my glasses awkwardly, but I just stay still, allowing Pete to kiss along my jawline with his slick lips and tongue.

_James won't ever know, Eden. This is just a now thing. You aren't a bad girlfriend, you're just... making bad decisions._

Our lips connect eagerly, and it's instantly met with tongue. I allow Pete's slippery tongue to slip past my lips, his warm hands leisurely traveling up the back of my top. We move clumsily with one another, bumping legs and stepping on each other's toes every once in a while, resulting in awkward giggles. There's nothing for us to both sit on, considering a beanbag would be too noisy and troublesome.

My back is against a wall soon, the thud on my back making me jump slightly. The taste of Pete is still new, exhilarating. He presses his teeth against my bottom lip several times before replicating the same behavior on my neck. My spine grows chills despite his warming touch, and I bite my tongue to hold back any noise.  _I don't want to give him the satisfaction. He can't know that I want this_.

Pete's forceful hands move to my lower back, where he slightly lifts me up. My legs wrap around his waist as we slide down towards the floor. I can feel him getting hard, all because of me. His bulge moving across the denim of my shorts is merely a preview of what may happen next. The smallest bit of friction has Pete squeezing me tighter as we continue to grind against each other's hips. Tenacious lips brush against my neck and collarbones greedily, and fingers rub at my bare thighs with anything but kindness. His teeth meet my ear, and the feeling of this makes me press my fingertips into his arms. He's everything but gentle, and I like it.

Maybe it's the small amount of alcohol in my system, but everything he does makes my heart thump irregularly. Pete's lips attach to mine again, and he sucks on my lips harshly, only this time his hands making their way to my tube top, which he tugs on several times. I catch the hint.

"Mhm," I breathe out against him.

Pete pulls my top down, massaging my breasts before breaking our kiss to lick at my tender nipples. Feeling the warmth of his mouth around my skin shocks me, goosebumps rising on my arms. My hands move to his hair, taking the messy strands between my fingers before I open my eyes to watch him. Pete glances up at me every once in a while, and I let out steady breaths, avoiding the embarrassment of eye contact.

"Pete," I whine when he gently uses his teeth on my breasts.

That must have been a trigger for him, because he sits up, unfastening my shorts and pulling them down quickly, leaving me in a pink thong. His frustrated breaths ring in my ear, and he leans down to nip at my inner thighs, warranting breathy moans from me. There are now two digits rubbing through my panties, making me quickly prop myself up on my elbows, my legs bucking slightly as I whimper swear words.

Pete glances at the wall adjacent to us before shifting where I sit in between his legs and we face the mirror in front of us. "We have to make this quick, or they'll search for us,"

"Just get me off, idiot," I pant quietly, my hands resting on his thighs as I try to avoid looking at the mirror.

"Of course."

The thin fabric of my underwear are pulled to the side, and soon Pete's fingers meet my entrance, moving from my folds to my clit, shifting across the now swollen bud with wild movements. I let out a loud gasp at the sudden sensation, my hand jolting to take his wrist.

"Pete, Pete, fuck-"

"Look at yourself, Eden. Look," he demands huskily, his free hand coming up to my jaw as he directs my face towards the mirror.

It's like he knows that I have insecurities, which makes me hesitant to look at my compromising position in the mirror. Our reflection is just filthy–but in the best way. If I could capture this moment and hide the photo forever, I would. I know that makes me a shitty girlfriend.  _I'm just letting him have his way with me. In a random room of Vegas club, I'm letting Pete touch me where no one but James has._

"Tell your boyfriend that you like it rough– you do like it rough, right?" Pete says, then taking his tongue up my ear slowly as I squirm uncomfortably.

_I see. This is still about our argument_ _._ _Is this angry sex? Vengeful sex? Maybe so, because Pete obviously has some resentmen_ _t for James_ _. He isn't the only one._

"Shut the fuck up," I manage to utter, the hand Pete once held my jaw in coming to my throat to wrap around it. I lean into him accordingly, my head falling back, as he reaches to slip two of his fingers past my parted lips, and I suck lightly at them, saliva streaming down my mouth as I do so.

Pete's fingers render me breathless once again, as he rubs my clit with his nimble movements. I lean forward, arching my back with a soft mewl escaping me. As he goes on, I'm trembling under his touch and my mind is foggy with pleasure. My moans grow louder in volume and more brittle in nature. Pete and I maintain a sensual gaze by the means of the mirror as I whine his name through my now sore throat, and he just watches me basically unravel in a matter of minutes.

"Fuck," My voice cracks as I reach my climax, slowly sinking against the wall as I pant uncontrollably.

"Eden," he says, jerking me up to lick at my neck, sucking on the skin lightly and taking breaks to swear. Pete stands to unfasten his jeans, before taking a condom out of his pocket.

"I thought you said quick," I say quietly, and Pete sighs in the realization of why he came to the club in the first place.

"I forgot," he says. "You should– I'm gonna go."

"With a boner?" I laugh out, pulling my tube top back on and adjusting my panties, still slightly shaking for my orgasm.

Pete looks down at the bulge that pokes through his jeans. "Shit."

Once I make sure all of my clothes are on, I check my hair in the mirror. My curls are messy and I didn't even think about how they probably inconvenienced Pete while he was behind me.

"Go, before they suspect something," I say. "I'll be at the bar... again."

_I understand why people say 'What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas'._


	19. nothing is okay.

"Say, hi, guys!" I exclaim waving at the camera as James smiles contently in front of me.

Gia, Leah, and Onyx greet James cordially, and he returns the same greetings.

"Where are you?" James asks.

"Denver," I answer. "We're here for a second day because the guys have a few interviews and stuff."

"I'm really proud of you, baby," James tells me. "Your photography is so good, and you're touring around the country! That's amazing."

"Thank you, James," I say, my cheeks warming up. "When I get back to Chicago, you'll be there, right?"

"I get back Saturday," he says happily.

_Why is he so excited to leave a place like Los Angeles? I was there for two days and I still miss it!_

"I miss my little suburb, y'know," he continues. "I miss my parents, my home... you."

"I miss you, too, baby," I say, blowing him a kiss. "I have to go, okay?"

"Alright,  _dulzura_ , bye."

"I love you, bye."

"Love you too."

Once the video call ends, my eyes gradually gloss over with stinging tears. Leah wraps her arm around me, pulling me into a comforting hug. I let the tears fall, sniffling lightly.

"Don't cry," Patrick reassures me. "We'll be home in a couple of days. I know it's hard."

I sink further into Leah's arms, trying to hide my face behind my pillow of curls. I can't believe what I've been doing behind James's back. He'd never do that to me. This is a secret I have to take to my grave– James could never know, or he'd leave me for sure. Then I'd be fucked. Relationships would never be quite like ours, and falling in love with someone else just isn't on my agenda.

"I'm okay," I squeak. "I just really love him."

"Alright, guys," Bob says once we arrive at what seems to be a corporate office. "Interview with 95.7 The Party. Don't say anything stupid, they already think you're just dumb emo kids."

"Are you saying that we're not...?" Gia says quietly.

Bob rolls his eyes before leaving the bus. Everyone follows shortly after, taking whatever equipment they feel is necessary. My camera hangs around my neck as I walk into the building.

"Hey," I say to get the attention of a nearby coordinator. "Do you guys have a photographer, or...?"

"Yeah, we do," the man says. "We'd prefer if you took pictures after the interview, so you don't bump heads with our photographer."

I nod my head in understanding before leaving to find Leah and Gia in the green room. Although I wanna tell the girls about my current dilemma as far as my relationship goes, it would involve telling them about my issue with Pete. Leah and Onyx know that Pete and I kissed, but that's all I led them to believe. I never mentioned that we made out, or that we fought at the beach, and I definitely can't mention what happened in Las Vegas. Gia has no idea that there's anything between Pete and me, and that's because she's Fall Out Boy's publicist, and now Gia, Pete and I are technically coworkers. Maybe I'll spill to her after the tour.

"They don't need you guys, either, huh?" I say as I plop down on the couch.

"Nope," the two answer.

"You know," Leah says. "Where is Colbi?"

"She went home," Gia says. "I heard Pete tell her to go home after Vegas."

For some reason, that makes me smile. I try to hide this by clearing my throat and putting my hand over my mouth that desperately wants to let out a cheerful giggle.  _No more Colbi._

"Pete is fucking weird, dude," Gia says. "He talked to Panic! with a fucking boner."

I laugh quietly, my ear growing warm in response to this comment.  _He didn't even bother to get off after our little encounter._

"Really?" Leah asks, raising an eyebrow. "I guess I was too drunk to notice."

"Where'd you even go?" Gia asks, giving me a suspicious look.

"The bus," I tell her. "I got bored and didn't wanna, like, get  _too_  wasted."

That much was true, but the whole time, I was beating the shit out of myself internally.

"I guess everyone did something stupid in Vegas but you."

_I beg to differ, depending on what your definition of 'stupid' is._

•

I feel my phone vibrating in my back pocket, and when I take it out, the name surprises me.  _Dad._

"Bunny!" my dad cheers when I answer.

"Hey... dad," I say, my tone lacking the slightest bit of enthusiasm.

"Your mom told me that you're on tour with that Chicago emo band," he says. "I didn't know you were into that kind of thing."

"Eh," I utter. "It's growing on me."

"I also didn't know my daughter was a camera guru!"

"Me neither, 'till they hired me," I admit.

"Seems like your gap year is going just fine," my dad tells me. "I'm proud of you, dumplin'. That's all I wanted to say."

_Why does everyone wanna make me cry today?_

"I love you, dad," I say shakily. "I love and miss you."

"I love you, too, E. Talk to you later."

"Bye."

Holding back tears, I take a deep breath, clenching my phone to my chest for a few seconds before putting it back in my pocket. When I finally regroup from the phone call, I feel several sets of arms wrap around me, and Gia, Onyx, and Leah hold me consolingly.

Talking to my dad is always difficult because we never address the elephant in the room– his divorce from my mom. They don't hate each other or anything, they just fell in love when they were young, and it just didn't work out after I was born. My dad officially left when I was around eight years old, about two years of taking longer shifts at work and quiet family dinners. We never talk about his departure. Ever.

That's why the inevitable distance in James and I's relationship bothers me so much. I feel like one day he'll move to another state and only visit when it's convenient for him. I wish the men in my life would just give me some consistency and maybe think about what I need for once.

•

"Go to sleep, Eden," Pete whispers as he walks past me on his way to the bathroom. Sleeping on the tour bus was something I definitely haven't gotten used to over the course of the tour.

I look around to see everyone asleep except for whoever's driving, Pete and I. My laptop read 1:27 AM, and I rest my head on the table in front of me in exhaustion.

"There's work to be done," I tell him. "I'll go to sleep eventually."

Pete sits next to me quietly. "Is everything okay?"

That question was always something that set me off, but I guess I'm growing up because I only roll my eyes.

A scoff escapes my lips as I let out a light snicker. "Nothing is  _okay_ , but I just gotta get over it."

"We can talk about it," Pete offers.

"It's just– James.... and my dad," I sigh. "I love them both, but they both, like, it's stupid–"

"It's not."

"I don't know, it's like– sometimes it's like they're the same person," I say. "Both distant. Always what seems to be eons away, y'know?"

"You want them both around," Pete says, and I nod furiously in agreement.

"Exactly!" I say. "They haven't even  _met_ , they're both so busy."

"James is gonna graduate soon, so there's that, right?"

"Yeah, in October; he's graduating pretty early."

"Well," Pete smiles at me, stroking my hair slowly. "Then... that's in two months. You're halfway there."

"What about my dad?"

"Talk to him. That's the first step."

"I'll try," I whisper, a small smile spread across my lips. "Thank you, Pete."

"Anytime," he replies, patting my back before pulling me up, leading me to one of the small bunks. I lie down inside of it, covering myself with a blanket. "Now, get some rest, okay?"

"Yeah," I say, turning over on my side.

We lean our faces in, but then,  _bam_! Pete's head smacks against the metal that separates the bunks. I let out a giggle at the embarrassing moment, the loud sound making it even funnier.

"Fuckin' idiot," I tease, before sliding the piece of cloth across the bunk that closes it off. "See ya."

"Night, Eden."


End file.
